The Masquerade
by EmmyLovett
Summary: When the person you thought you could trust most turns out to be something you despise, leaving you to pick up the pieces; what would you do? Rated T
1. Two Worlds

_Hey all :)_

_This is my first update in... too long. I've been so majorly busy recently, that writing has just been put right to the back of everything! I started this back during November half term, so has been a long time coming! At the moment it is seven chapters long, but will probably increase to up to about 12 or so._ _Basically, all criticism is welcome, and other than that, I hope you enjoy it!_

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**The Masquerade**

**Two Worlds**

"Show 201 and 876 dealing." Millie said into her radio, her body being flung against the door as Nate pulled the area car around in a smooth turn. The blues were flashing off the glass-fronted buildings that lined the Thames in one of Canley's most desirable postcodes. In the next five minutes, the scenery would transport them between two worlds: sophisticated chic to seedy Club Land.

It was Friday night; so neither officers' had been especially surprised to get a call directing them to Canley's red-light district. With hammered curb crawlers, and off-their-face Hookers aplenty, disturbances were rife in Evelyn Wood.

Nate pulled up flush to an alleyway that was never far away from the radio waves, and known well to the Sun Hill veterans. Pacing up and down the potholed pavement between to bent bollards was a young male, who dived towards Millie the second she opened her door. "Oh thank God! You're here!" He said. "I didn't know what to do. I was walking to a mate's an' I saw 'er body lying amongst the trash." Despite the speed at which he was talking, Millie noticed a slight American lilt to his voice, although was able to derive very little else from his worried speech.

"Ok Sir, calm down. You've done the right thing. What's your name?" Millie asked, placing a reassuring arm around him and guiding him up the alleyway, Nate flanking her other side.

"Micah… uh, Badgely. I'm sorry… urgh. I don't know if I'm comin' or going." He muttered, more to himself than either Millie or Nate.

"Ok, Micah, my name is Millie, and this is my colleague Nate, we're officers from Sun Hill station. Do you live near hear?"

"Yeah… well no, I'm studying at Oxford, but home's back in the States. I dunno why I'm tellin' you this… it's totally irrelevant. You don't wanna know. I'm s'posed to be at a mates party." Micah stopped in his tracks and shook his head violently. "Shut the hell up!" He scolded himself, looking apologetically towards Millie, before extending his view towards Nate. Nate was just able to wipe the grin off his face as Micah looked at him. Poor sod, he mused.

"Nate…" Millie trailed off, seeing pools of blood on the concrete floor, the full moon reflected crisply in the red. "You've called an ambulance, right?" Millie asked Micah.

"I…" Millie and Nate exchanged horrified glances, the split second their eyes were connected telling a million words. A single stiletto stuck at an angle from the black bin bags. Nate took a glove from his pocket and removed it, before disturbing the bin bags slightly, to reveal a pale and battered body. Micah fell to the floor, his head lulling against the opposite wall. Neither Millie nor Nate noticed.

"201 to control, I need an ambulance urgently to Evelyn Wood, 53rd Street. We've got an unconscious female with severe injuries." Millie knelt on the floor, careful not to disturb anything more than she had to. She pulled gently at the bag that was wrapped around the woman's neck and opened it, fishing for a purse. "Libby Carlisle." She said quietly, reading off a business card. She handed Nate the card, pink with fancy writing on. "She's only eighteen." Nate took a few moments to read over the card, Millie watching his eyes scan over the words quickly.

"She's a Hooker?" He asked. Millie nodded, before placing two fingers on Libby's neck. "She got a pulse?" Millie nodded.

"Weak. But it's there." She sighed to herself, wondering how badly someone's life had to go wrong before they resulted to wondering the streets of Evelyn Wood. "She must have been so desperate." She said to herself, sweeping some peroxide blonde hair from Libby's intricately decorated eyes. "Can I have an ETA on the ambulance headed for Evelyn Wood?" Millie asked into her radio, to try and distract herself from the bloodied mess on the floor.

"ETA two minutes." Within seconds, sirens could be heard, and Nate darted off to the end of the alleyway, his silhouette coming to a standstill where they'd picked up Micah. Millie's eyes broke their gaze with Libby, and looked towards the wall.

"Are you ok?" She asked. Micah looked up from the stone he'd been dragging over the floor and nodded. "It'll be ok. She'll be ok. You found her just in time." She said, in a way she hoped he'd find reassuring. "You saved her life." Neither said anything, each just sat in silence, Millie watching the end of alleyway as the sirens grew louder, and eventually stopped, creating an eerie silence, punctuated occasionally by the whistling of the wind down the alley. Nate returned, closely followed by two male medics, who were armed with a large green bag and stretcher.

"Dan Robbins, Tim Street." The younger of the men said, indicating first to himself, then to his colleague. "PC Roberts filled us in. How long's she been here?" Mille shook her head.

"She's still warm, and we've got an output, I'd say maybe half and hour, to an hour tops." Dan nodded, crouching down, as Millie stood up. She turned to Nate, and started running through the formalities. "We need to get Micah down to the station, get the area cordoned off, and scenes of crime down here." She said, before turning to Micah. "We need you to come down to the station, and give us a statement." She said matter of factly. Micah pulled himself off the ground, his eyes never once leaving the pavement as he walked towards Millie.

"We'll get her down to St Hugh's." Dan said, as he and Tim lifted the stretcher from the floor.

"Thanks. An officer will be down shortly." Nate acknowledged them, and then continued to talk down his radio, his back turned to the scene of the crime.

***

The next morning, Millie forced her head off the pillow, the traffic outside her window having stirred her. "10.45." She muttered to herself, her head hitting the pillow just as quickly as it had risen, her eyes fluttering closed again. Having got to bed at 2.30, she felt she could justify a longer lie in, however a disgruntled truck driver obviously had other ideas. Three short, sharp horn blasts disturbed her. She groaned into her pillow, before sitting up again, and this time throwing her feet over the side of her bed, feeling around for her slippers.

Millie slid her way along the carpet, towards the stairs before she picked her feet up and slowly made her way downstairs. The Canley Gazette that lay in a heap above her post caught her eye. Reaching the bottom, she bent down and picked it up, murmuring the reporter's story as she wondered through to the kitchen.

"Evelyn Embarrassment: Late yesterday evening, officers from Sun Hill were called to an incident in the heart of Canley's club district, Evelyn Woods, where they were confronted by a young man, who'd stumbled across the semi-conscious body believed to be that of Libby Carlisle. This comes just weeks after Supt. Jack Meadows promised Canley his force were going to crack down on violence in the area after a series of drink and drug related run ins…" Millie dropped the paper for a second to fill the kettle. "…So is this just another example of the Metropolitan Police doing the public a disservice…?" She placed a slice of bread in the toaster. "Ex officer, Michael Baines believes so, 'For the thirty years I was based in London, I recall numerous times when my superiors made promises to the public, and then proceeded to break them. It's just not realistic for one reason or another, be it another more important case cropping up or funding being directed elsewhere.' Councillor Jennifer Fells believes it is down to the shear amount of paperwork our officers are having to complete before they can get on with their job; 'They spend over half their time writing reports and keeping on top of paperwork, we can't expect them to be in two places at once. The police service need to figure out where their priorities lie: with the public, or with their pens.'" Millie scoffed to herself and rolled her eyes. "Article continued on page 4." She threw the paper to the side, and pulled the steaming toast from the toaster.

Millie couldn't help but wonder how the media had got hold of the case so quickly, it had happened less than twelve hours ago, but it was long enough to get various quotes, and for Sun Hill to bear the brunt of yet another media storm, criticizing them for what they did, or more to the point didn't do. She could see CID's faces now, each distorted into a different form of anger. There was only so much they could do. The fact that some idiot had decided to batter a prostitute wasn't something they couldn't have forecasted.

The doorbell ringing pulled her swiftly from her mental rant. She put down her tea, and swallowed the last mouthful of toast. Opening the door, Millie braced herself for the cool wind that would wrap itself around her bear shoulders and thinly covered legs. Her pyjamas really weren't up to much. "Hey!" She smiled, standing to one side, throwing her arms around the taller male figure, the other half to her she'd been very careful not to mention at work.

"Alright darlin'?" He asked, gently grazing his lips against Millie's cheek. "I read the papers… heard what happened last night."

"Mmm…" She sighed. "I just… God, I don't know Rob. Things must have got so bad in someone's life for them to have done that to her." Millie looped her fingers around Rob's and led him through to the living room, where she cuddled up to him on the sofa. "Its not like I've never seen anything like that before… but it's really got to me." She looked up at Rob, who smiled weakly at her, and kissed her again, this time with a little more passion.

"It'll be ok. You'll find who did it, right? I mean there'll have been witnesses and CCTV?" Rob asked.

"Uh… yeah. Sure." Millie replied absently, catching a glimpse of the person who was walking up her pathway.


	2. Collision

_Hello again, just a quick message to say thank you to Kate (for pointing out that I'd got Millie's call sign wrong as well as reviewing) and also MissLala73, for giving me a really lovely review; for you guys, and everyone else who's been reading, here is chapter two. And also, I have to apologise, my document preview bit, isn't working properly; so for those of you who are just as paranoid about presentation as me, you will have no doubt noticed that my title isn't centred like Chapter 1 :/ _

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**The Masquerade**

**Collision**

Later on the same day, Millie caught herself staring into her bedroom mirror. Recently, she'd spent longer than ever getting ready for work. You'd think it was easy – a coating of foundation, flick of mascara and maybe a lick of gloss, but the reality was it was getting more and more intricate. She'd perfected the application of her foundation, and was now dusting a coating of deep metallic bronze eye shadow, before she rolled a black kohl pencil between her fingers, and carefully ran the pencil along her eyes. Everyday, she'd torment herself as to why she was putting herself through this ritual, having never been one of the girls who'd spoon slap on with a spatula. Sally and Mel had noticed the difference in her appearance, and even speculated as to why, but she was still unable to admit to herself why she was making such a wasted effort.

Arriving at the station half an hour later, Millie found herself smoothing down her jeans, which were tucked into knee length boots, and pulling her jacket around her – not just to block out the cold. Her auburn hair was blowing off her shoulders by the crisp October air. Her heels clicked against the tarmac, a sound which had always made her feel self conscious and insecure – it didn't matter if nobody was around, she felt as if she was being watched.

She looked through each of the windows of the station, two of which were occupied by familiar faces. Grace looked to be trying to attract Max into animated conversation, but to say that his attention was elsewhere would have been an understatement. Millie glanced at the floor, wondering whether he was looking at her. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink burning up against the cold. She looked around, there was no one else on the forecourt; it was disserted. She smiled weakly at the window, but the older man continued to look blankly ahead, yet so obviously enthralled by something. She felt invisible, to the point of worthlessness even. She pulled her hair into her hands, and ducked her head, walking quickly into the station, realising she'd been lost in her own world for a few minutes too long.

'What was this morning all about?' She wondered to herself, as she punched a series of four numbers into the keypad. 'He turns up at my house, totally unannounced, and shows me a side of him I've never seen before. Then the minute we step over the boundary line between our work life and our private life, it's as if I am totally invisible. And when I'm not some ghost from a different life, and he does acknowledge me at work, it's only to play me down. To tell me I've done something wrong, or screwed up a case. What's a girl to do?' She sighed to herself, as she fell into the security of the female locker rooms, not an officer in sight, accountable to the fact she was half an hour early for her shift. She sat down on a bench and ran her hands through her hair. 'I do love Rob. I do… I do. I must. It's just a stupid schoolgirl crush; it's normal for a girl to have a crush on her boss. Well superior at any rate – isn't it? At least Mel and Sally say so… something about figures of authority being found… sexy? And they don't even know the half of it.'

"Millie! Smithy said he saw you come in." Stevie smiled, taking a seat next to Millie, her bubbly persona enough to distract anyone. "How are you?"

"Oh… fine. Just work isn't it?" She replied in as nonchalant tone as she could muster. "I take it Libby's going to be ok?" Stevie nodded, obviously not convinced by Millie's act.

"She came around earlier on. Her sister's been with her since the attack, and I've been down to the hospital to get a statement. I'm just about to pop down again to see if she can identify her attacker if you want to come with?" Stevie offered.

"Oh – that'd be great." Millie said, smiling eagerly – anything to get her away from the station. "If you don't mind giving me two seconds to get changed?" She asked. Stevie waved her hand dismissively across her face.

"Carter's in a good mood, plainclothes'll be fine." Stevie said, standing up. "I'll meet you out front in five." She smiled, before retreating from the female locker rooms. Millie frowned to herself and shook her head, wondering what had got into the usually ice cold DS for him to disregard uniform. She wasn't about to dispute it – or question it for that matter.

Standing up, and shaking all negative, questioning and in any other way Max-related thoughts from her head, she pushed her bag into her locker, and pocketed the key and her mobile, before leaving the locker room in peace, before it was engulfed by the officers working on the late shift.

***

"Libby, we met earlier, how are you?" Stevie asked compassionately, taking a seat next to the young woman. Millie studied her silently, she was pale, bruised and had gashes covering a large part of her face. She attempted a smile and nodded. "This is my colleague, PC Millie Brown, it was her and PC Roberts who found you last night." Millie extended her hand towards Libby, who shook it, grasping it tightly, her eyes full of unwavering gratitude.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!" She smiled. Millie was surprised at the accent, however stereotypical she was guilty of being. She spoke with good English, and sounded like she had been well educated.

"I'm just glad you're going to be ok." Millie replied professionally, sitting at the foot of the bed, and opening the laptop up.

"Ok… you said you thought you'd be up to giving us an identification. Is that still ok?" Stevie asked. "You can take as long as you want. There's no rush." Libby nodded, her eyes welling up. Millie pulled the presentation up, the faces of the men sending electrifying shivers down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood on end, as she moved to kneel by the side of the bed, within easier reach of the laptop buttons. She noticed Stevie place a supportive hand over Libby's arm.

"I really… I wasn't paying that much attention to his face." Libby said timidly, shaking her head at the middle aged image on the screen. Millie pressed the spacebar, and a new image replaced the old.

"Ok… just anything will help." Stevie replied, exchanging a look with Millie.

"He smelt… other than of alcohol, vodka… Joop. Joop Jump. My brother is obsessed with the stuff." She smiled slightly, before the memory of the scent repulsed her, sending her arm flying towards a cardboard bowl, and proceeding to throw the contents of her stomach into it. A nurse came hurtling into the cubical, taking the cardboard bowl from Libby and giving her a cup of water.

"Are you ok, Dear?" She asked in a motherly fashion, although she could have been no more than five years older than Libby herself. Libby nodded in simple reply, swallowing the water. "If it gets to much…" She signalled to Millie and Stevie. "…Then they will have to go, do you hear me?" All three women nodded dutifully. "Ok. Give me a shout if you feel any worse." And with that, she left the room, the institutional green curtains swaying in her wake.

"Are you ok to continue?" Millie asked. Libby nodded, taking a fresh look at the laptop.

"He was white." She said simply, the male face on the screen being black. "And, I dunno… mid-twenties, he was wearing a black cap and his face, it was rough. Stubble kind of rough." The image on the screen flickered, and then changed. Millie looked straight up at Libby, and saw the fear she'd seen before in so many women reside in her brown eyes. Millie looked down at the screen, for the first time, herself.

Her fingers found the crevices in his cheek, before she followed the line of his face down to his neck. The pieces slowly joined together like a giant puzzle in her mind. The bed before her started swimming, and her whole world span uncontrollably. She felt like she was falling, and falling far and fast, right through oblivion. It was as if a black hole had appeared in the floor and sucked her in, tossing her around, and compressing her. Her lungs felt as if they were about to burst, and her heart explode. She put her hand subconsciously to her mouth, and tried to swallow. Swallow. Swallow! She willed her throat to relax, but it stayed tight shut, bile rising from her stomach. She stood up, holding onto the wall for support. "I… gimme a sec." She muttered, her voice hoarse and shaking.

Taking a step outside of the cubical, Millie sunk to the flow holding her head in her hands. She heard footsteps behind her, and was joined on the lino by Stevie seconds later. One of her shaking hands was taken, and held tightly onto. With her other hand, Stevie wrapped her arm around Millie's back.

"You've lost me, Millie. Back at the station, you'd have had be believe all this was in the line of duty." Stevie sighed, shaking her head. From beneath the mass of orange curls, for the first time in what felt like an age, Millie let a sharp gasp leave her body.

"The picture…" Millie gasped, a pain stabbing deep into her, causing her to call out in pain. She swallowed hard, trying to keep a grip and perspective on things.

"You know him?" She asked, the surprise echoing in her voice. Millie nodded.

"He's my…" Tears dropped to the floor, leaving a murky puddle where they landed. "He's my boyfriend." She finished, looking up at Stevie, her eyes full of disgrace. The word echoed in her mind. "_Boyfriend_… and I had… no idea." Stevie took her friend in her arms, pulling her into a tight embrace. "A rapist…"


	3. The Biro

_Right, first of all, I probably ought to apologise because I have a fairly distinct memory of telling someone I'd update before Christmas, and that didn't happen, with so much going on! With that, I probably ought to add, Happy Christmas!! I know I for one am enjoying gorging on way too much food that is just so bad, but soo good! I'm not going to say I'll update before New Years, because that'll be jinxing it... so if I don't get around to it, I hope you have an amazing New Year and ring in 2010 the way you wish the year (and decade) to continue!!_

_Much love of course to my faithful reviewees: A for Antechines, Faerienutmeg, Kate, MissLala73 and rather begrudgingly my FanFic soul matee; Jilly (if you got your ass online from time to time, you might have read it already :P)_

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**The Masquerade**

**The Biro**

Stevie excused her and Millie from the hospital, thanking Libby for her time and promising that they'd be in touch. The pair made their way back to Sun Hill, the journey made in silence punctuated only by their respective thoughts.

'I thought I knew him…' Millie's gaze was lost in the visor mirror, soul searching somewhere deep inside her. '…Ten months, and I hadn't figured that he had the ability to be so… controlling, and violent, sick and twisted. He's never laid a finger on me, never shouted or argued – it's totally out of character. Maybe, maybe it wasn't him? A case of mistaken identity? Libby said she didn't see him that well. And it was dark. But he was wearing Joop… but millions of men wear Joop! And Rob is one of those millions… I bought him it for his birthday… who'd have known that it would help identify him as a rapist.' Millie felt as if she had an angel sitting on her left shoulder, and a devil on her right. For every argument she came up with to defend Rob, she came up with a condemning counter attack that banged him to rights. 'Innocent until proven guilty, I suppose. Although Libby pretty much proved his guilt.' Millie shuddered, thinking back to how Rob had comforted her after she'd come home from work. How he'd looked mortified when she told him that she was the one who'd discovered a body lying semi-conscious and battered in an alleyway. She guessed that hadn't been part of the plan.

Millie noticed the car swing into Sun Hill. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket and ran her fingers through her hair, before ensuring none of her mascara had been left deposited under her eyes. You wouldn't have known she'd spent forty minutes plus getting ready earlier that morning. She looked ghostly, and pale; like she hadn't slept for days and eating had slipped her mind. Stevie and Millie walked, still in silence, up the ramp into the station. They didn't say anything, but both knew they had to see the DS before anything else. As they rushed through the corridors, Millie kept her head down, allowing her long auburn hair to cover her face and her arms tightly crossed over her chest, a physical barrier to anyone's questions. The noise of her heels pounding against the floor got lost amongst the worried murmurs of her colleagues. She said nothing to anyone, and untwisted her arms only when she reached CID, to knock on the office door she knew Max, the Investigating Officer, to be locked away in. The door opened inwards, and both women stepped in, side by side.

"You better have some good news." He growled, sitting back in his chair. Stevie sat in one of the two chairs opposite him, and watched Millie, willing her to do the same. She noticed the two pairs of expectant eyes upon her, and sat down quickly, her head still hung in shame; her shoulders still slumped in disgrace. "Well…? PC Brown? DS Moss?"

"We went to see Libby Carlisle at St Hugh's." Stevie started. "She said she was up to seeing if she could ID her attacker." Stevie watched Max's head snap up from the computer screen. He took the biro he'd been chewing on from his mouth.

"And?" Stevie looked anxiously across at Millie, who was chewing on her lip.

"He's called Rob…"

"…Rob Lewis." Millie interrupted Stevie, and looked at her apologetically. Max started typing on the computer, the girls assumed on CRIMENT. Stevie noted a single tear roll down Millie's cheeks, as a flash of recognition flew through Max's face. He looked between Millie and Stevie, his mouth gaping slightly. He started taping the biro against the desk.

"Rob Lewis. As in the guy that was at your place when I called in this morning?" Max asked. Millie nodded, and looked at the ceiling, taking a large intake of air.

"He came around this morning. He'd 'heard' about the attack last night, and wanted to check I was alright." Millie explained, her voice wavering. Stevie took hold of her hand, encouraging her to carry on. "He's my boyfriend." The biro fell from Max's hand.

"Oh. Well that changes everything." He said matter-of-factly. Stevie rolled her eyes, and shook her head. Even now, stone cold Max could still think of nothing but the case in hand. "I'm going to have to remove you from the case."

"No! Max! You can't do that. Millie's a professional, she won't jeopardise the case!" Stevie protested, her arms thrown out to the side, questioning his decision.

"I won't." Millie said weakly, pleading with the Max who'd visited her the previous morning. For a split second, she saw the ice glaze he wore so well in his eyes when he was working melt away, leaving a slightly warmer and more approachable expression on his face; similar to the one he'd been wearing earlier that morning…

***

_Millie sighed, and left the warmth of her sofa, and the arms of Rob; to answer the door for the second time that morning. She didn't normally make a habit of opening the door in her pyjamas, but made a special exception today, not having the energy to do much about it. Her bedroom seemed like a long way away, and up a few stairs too many. _

_Opening the door, she was surprised and embarrassed to see Max standing before her. "Oh. Hey!" She smiled weakly, and opened the door a little wider. "You'll have to excuse me. I wasn't expecting visitors." Max smiled and waved dismissively. "If you've come for my statement…" _

"_No… actually," Millie had never seen Max flush quite a shade of pink. "I wanted to check you were ok, after… y'ano, what happened last night." Millie smiled, and nodded. For a second or two, they shared a moment, each lost in each other's gaze, before Millie heard shuffling from the next room. She jumped and averted her gaze, looking through the doorframe and smiling meekly at Rob, as if she was a small child who'd been caught with her hand in the sweet jar. "Uhm, Rob, this is DS Max Carter… and uh, DS Carter, this is Rob, my… boyfriend." _

_And so she was busted, possibly the one person she didn't want to find out she was in a relationship had. If she hadn't been slightly biased, she would have sworn for a split second she'd seen a shot of jealousy run through Max's eyes. But she was, very, very biased, so attempted to think nothing more on the matter, although she knew it'd trouble her for the rest of the day. After breaking free from her thoughts, she saw the two men were exchanging a very strained handshake. She smiled to herself inside, and wished for Rob to skulk off back into the sitting room. "Do you… do you fancy a cuppa?" She asked, her voice edging on hopeful. Max look thoughtful; before shaking his head. _

"_I better not, I'm supposed to be at work all ready, I've heard that the paperwork is in a very precarious position on my desk." Max replied, smiling. Rob shuffled back into the living room and fell onto the leather sofa. Millie let out a soft, but audible sigh, and turned her full attention back to Max. _

"_Oh… fun." She grinned. "I'll be in later, so maybe I'll come and… rescue you from the depths of forms at some point so you can take my statement." Millie's heart was pounding in her chest, and she wondered if she'd taken a step too far. She palms her sweating with the anticipation of the unknown, and of the daring. _

"_I'll look forward to it." Max replied, keeping very careful eye contact with the younger woman. "I'll… uh, see you later, then." Millie nodded, before cursing herself within. 'You stupid, stupid fool!' She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. _

"_Yeah – thank you for… popping in." She replied, turning to the door and opening it. _

***

Thinking back, Millie wandered whether Rob's stiffness when meeting Max had nothing to do with the fact he'd never met any of her work colleagues, or that he saw him to a warped form of competition, but that he was a police officer, and that meant he was more likely to get caught out. Maybe he'd trusted Millie not to give him away if it came down to identifying an image, but not Max – and why would a total stranger save a rapist's ass?

"Ok. Fine, but if I so much as even think you're as little as considering contacting Lewis, you'll be off the case faster than you can say Libby Carlisle. Do you understand?" Max asked, standing up very swiftly, and moving over to a filing cabinet.

"With all due respect Sarge," Millie said, following Max on his 'tour' around the office. "If I spoke to Rob now, I don't think I could be held responsible for my actions." She said vehemently. "He makes me sick." She stood up, and headed for the door, Stevie quickly following.

"Briefing in ten, ok." Max added quickly, before the girls disappeared around the door.


	4. The Cause

_Wow... this seems to be a freakishly long chapter - all I can say is really don't get used to it! I have no idea quite what happened there, but hey! You'll probably find I start rambling like a total idiot towards the end because unless its short and sweet, then it tends to turn boring after a few thousand words. Please feel free to let me know as much in your reviews!!_

_So despite the length, I hope you enjoy it._

_And of course the obligatory, but of course sincere "Happy New Year"!!! _

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**The Masquerade**

**The Cause**

"Last night, a brutal attack on eighteen year old Libby Carlisle, took place down this alleyway in Evelyn Woods." Max hit his finger hard against the small photo of Libby, and then of the crime scene, now cordoned off. "Miss Carlisle claims to have been raped, and the initial doctors report confirms that she did have unprotected sex last night, and her internal injuries and bruises run in accordance to this allegation, however we are still waiting on the final forensic analysis from the DNA found on her clothes and under her finger nails." Millie glanced around the room, watching everyone take in the information she'd had over twelve hours to digest. "DS Moss and PC Brown went to St Hugh's earlier on, and Miss Carlisle positively identified this man – Rob Lewis – as her attacker." Millie shuddered and looked at the floor. She hadn't even known that Rob was known to the police, let alone had a record, which she had discovered on CRIMENT in the ten minutes spare time she had whilst waiting for the briefing. The list was a long one. GBH and ABH several times over through a period of five years, Possession with Intent, Armed Robbery and he was suspected of abusing a former girlfriend, however the CPS threw the case out before it got to court, with unsubstantiated evidence.

"…So from his previous, Lewis is known to us as a violent, and unpredictable man." Stevie had taken over from Max, although Millie had been so caught up in her thoughts, she'd missed part of her speech. Normally, she'd have been mortified at that fact, however found herself lacking the energy to feel even remotely bad. She slumped a little lower in the chair, trying to hide herself from her colleagues. It was now she was glad no one had met Rob.

***

"You looked… out of it back there." Stevie said, pulling Millie to the side to save them getting drifted away in the squash of officers who were hurrying to leave the briefing room. "It's going to be ok, you know."

"Yeah?" Mille sighed to herself. She wasn't convinced. She was in the middle of a dark, dark tunnel that didn't look like it was about to end.

"DS Carter has suggested you go and pick Libby up from hospital and take her back to her place…" Stevie paused and waited for a reaction, but none came. Millie's face remained deadpan, her eyes tired and having lost the sparkle that usually resided there. "…But I understand, under the circumstances if you'd rather not. It's up to you."

"I dunno, Sarge. I just… I'm so… I'm so drained." Millie struggled to get the words out of her mouth in a sentence that made sense. "It might do me good. To get out of here – I take it you're bringing Rob in?" Stevie nodded solemnly.

"Well then I'm better as far away… from here, as possible." Millie agreed, leaning her weight against the wall, and closing her eyes. "Ok." Millie paused. "Ok. I'll see you later." She smiled back towards Stevie weakly, as she walked away from her, towards the back exit.

As Millie strutted through the station, she kept her eyes firmly glued to the floor, watching the circular imprints blur into one squiggly line. She wouldn't have been surprised to find her heels leaving their own mark on the blue lino. Walking through custody, Millie's police officer instinct kicked in, hearing angry raised voices. Her feet sped up, and she found herself punching the ID code into the door, before pushing it open, and throwing herself towards the desk, pulling apart the one man from PC Roberts and DS Carter. All her pent up rage was let loose in one smooth thrust that sent the kicking legs and flailing arms backwards. The room went silent, watching Millie, breathing deeply as she stared across at the male who was standing with his back towards the wall, his eyes lost in hers.

"Mills…" He murmured, shaking his head. She glared at him, and shook her head. She wasn't supposed to have seen him – she was supposed to have been long gone, taking Libby home, and make sure she was ok. The plan was that she'd be so busy, she'd fail to remember Rob being hauled into Sun Hill on suspicion of being a…

"Rapist…" She muttered, loud enough for him to hear. He took a step towards her, and she took two step backs, seeing in her peripheral vision Max stride to her side. "You forced an eighteen year old girl to have sex with you, and then left her for dead in an alleyway." She said slowly and clearly, watching what her words were doing to Rob. He was cowering under her chilling gaze, and blushing as two more officers walked into the confrontation. "I think… you're an evil, sick man who deserves to rot in hell for what you did to that kid."

Within a split second, Millie found herself pinned against the door, two hands clasped around her throat with strengthening force. She turned her face away from Rob's. "She was a prostitute Mills." Rob said, in a tone that suggested Libby didn't matter to society, and so therefore shouldn't be wasting police time. Bile was rising from Millie's stomach to her throat, leaving a burning sensation in the pit of her. Her breaths became short and far between, and her world began to spin. The shouting voices of the officers around her became faint and echoed, until she couldn't decipher one voice from another, and further still, one word from the next. The strength by which she was being held, felt as if it was loosening, but the less hold Rob seemed to have on her neck, the harder he kicked out, first with his hands towards her stomach, but then with his legs.

Millie clasped on to the door handle, her whole body convulsing unstoppably. She brought her spare hand to her chest, massaging her throat, as she watched Rob be dragged into the cells, with Nate threatening to add the assault of a police officer onto the list of charges they were going to stick on him. Feeling a presence to her right side, Millie let go of the door, turning to face the officer, she was pleasantly surprised to see Max having adopted an awkward stance next to he, his hand hovering next to her arm. It dropped back to his waist as he saw where Millie's eye line was fixed.

"Are you a'right?" He asked compassionately, a word Millie rarely used to describe the working DS Carter.

"Yeah… yeah, I am." Millie was unsure as to why her legs were shaking still. Was it because of her predicament with Rob or close proximity to Max? "I just didn't think he was capable of hurting a fly." Her voice was empty, emotionless, a characteristic Max had never noticed before in Millie – it unnerved him. She was usually bubbly and fun, and even when she was being serious she was never quite so… vacant. Her heart was always full of passion for her cause, and right now, that passion was dead. "I need to go and pick up Libby from hospital, I told Stevie…" Her voice trailed off, her mind reeling.

"No. You need to go home." Max said firmly. No matter how messed up her mind was right now, Millie had no intentions of bailing on Libby – the least she could do was give her a helping hand; even if it was hard to be around her knowing how close she had been to the scum that had done this to her.

"Compromise?" Millie asked hopefully, taking herself to sit down on one of the cool metal stalls. Max followed and took at seat next to her. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He stayed silent for a second, wondering if he was about to let a PC dictate his decision.

"Fine." He conceded. "I'll drive you to the hospital, we can go and pick up Libby, take her home and then I'm taking _you_ home." Max put on his best no-nonsense tone, but he knew it would be in vain after giving into Millie's demand so easily.

"Done." Millie replied, in a lighter tone than before. She stood up, and grabbed some keys from behind the custody desk, dangling them in front of her sergeant, letting him take them, before she walked off, slightly ahead of him, towards an unmarked car.

'_What is she doing to me?' _Max wondered to himself, as he struggled to keep up with the young officer, his eyes watching the heels of her boots move up and down to a silent beat. _'If anyone else had tried it on like that, then they'd have been at home in half the amount of time she's going to be. And since when do we go around letting the (ex?) girlfriend of the rapist pick up the rape victim? Talk about too close to home… she's unbelievable. _

The pair both sat into the car, and Max pushed the keys into the ignition. "You shouldn't have let him get to you like that." He said simply. Millie had wondered when the criticism would come – she never could do anything in front of Max without him finding even the smallest of niggles to complain about. She scowled at him, but said nothing. "You could have completely compromised the case." He added. Millie again, kept a dignified silence, knowing she'd be in even more trouble if she let Max to get to her. "We'll be lucky to get this past the CPS, and once they know about it, then it could take years off his sentence. In fact we'll be lucky to escape without a DPS investigation. You shouldn't be anywhere near the case, or him."

"Well I'm sorry my boyfriend turned out to be a rapist." Millie retorted sarcastically, glaring at her sergeant. "Do you think I wanted this to happen? I didn't intentionally find Libby Carlisle semi conscious last night and then will that the rapist turn out to be my boyfriend, who I loved and trusted." She folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child. "To be quite honest with you, a DPS investigation is the least of my worries right now. I'm sorry about the extra paperwork it might dump on you, though." Neither said anything else for the remainder of the journey, although Millie's heart continued to thump against her rib cage. There was surely going to be some repercussion for her little outburst.

Once at the hospital, Millie re-assumed her fast pace that kept her several steps ahead of Max. She knew exactly where to go, weaving through the hospital staff like a pro, and navigating her way around the maze of corridors as if she'd spent days, not hours, in the place recently. She came to the cubicle with a plaque outside reading 'Libby Carlisle', and opened the sterile curtains slowly. "Hey." She smiled, seeing the young lady, now sitting up in the wicker chair next to the bed, her cheeks full of colour, her eyes sparkling a with a little more vitality as she read the latest copy of 'Grazia', with both 'Ok!' and 'Look' lying on the bed. "We got a call saying you could be discharged."

"The doctor says I'm fine to leave, but have to come straight back in if I get any nausea or flashbacks and stuff." She said, for the first time, sounding like an eighteen-year-old girl.

"Ok." Millie paused hearing the curtain open behind her. She turned slightly, seeing Max join her. "Uhm, Libby, this is my colleague DS Carter." Libby smiled and nodded politely. "We'll give you a second to gather your things together." They left her, Millie leaning against the wall she had fallen against earlier. She looked at the floor, wear the tears had fallen from her cheeks and sighed heavily. Max had taken to pacing up and down the corridor, obviously not caring for the passage he was obstructing. She noticed him keep looking at his watch nervously. "We're not keeping you, are we?" She muttered. Max looked up sharply, and stopped in his tracks, shooting her a look. "Feel free to go, if you need to of course. I wouldn't want to be even more of an inconvenience to you." Max went back to pacing, unable to find a suitable retaliation. For now, he was going to let Millie win, but he promised himself he'd think of a suitable reprisal later on.

"Is everything ok?" Libby asked, after fighting with the curtain to get out of the cubicle. She directed her question towards Millie who smiled and nodded.

"Never been better." She said, her smile dripping from her face as glared at Max. She and Libby fell into step next to each other, this time Max taking the lead in navigating the hospital wards to get to the car park. Libby kept shooting anxious little glances towards Millie, her inquisitive, forever gossip hungry mind going into overdrive. She promised herself, given half the chance she'd quiz the young woman about it later; maybe it was something to with her distress earlier? Whatever it was, it was sure to keep her mind occupied from her own terrors for a while.

Apart from Libby giving directions to her parents house, the car journey was silent, with both Libby and Millie in the back seat, whilst Max concentrated on the roads. Pulling up outside the Carlisle residency, Max stayed seated, not moving his seat belt nor saying anything. Libby and Millie stepped outside the car, each exhaling a separate sighs of relief one after the other, before they caught the others eye and giggled. Not for the first time, Millie found herself surprised at the other half of Libby's life. She lived in one of the nicer parts of Canley, with a pretty and well-maintained garden to greet you. Libby looked sheepishly at Millie, and opened her mouth.

"I need to ask a favour." She said quietly. "Mum and dad… well no one knows actually; they don't know what I _do_…" She whispered, stopping, and looking at Millie. Her eyes were full of sadness and shame. "I got into a bad group at college, and got into a kinda… debt with someone. So this is how I'm repaying him."

"But!" Millie was cut short by Libby.

"No 'buts', that's just how it is." She said quickly, quietly but firmly. "And no, I'm not giving you a name. I've been through enough as it is. All I've got to do is pull another £200 worth of punters." Millie groaned and shook her head. "Maybe I'll move away. Go to Uni somewhere new. But you don't need to worry about me. I've got enough people looking out for me for me to be safe from now on."

"And where were they last night?" Millie asked, her tone hard and cold. "Y'ano, the Streets are dangerous and lonely Libby. No one is ever safe."

"I made a choice when I was young and uneducated. I'm paying for it now." Millie sensed that there was nothing more Libby would say on the matter, so continued to walk up the path, waiting for Libby to unlock the front door. She let them both in, and hung her keys on a holder. "Mum, it's me." She shouted through the house. "Dad's working." She added, for Millie's benefit. "Come through."

"Darling!" A tall, well-groomed woman in her mid-fifties came bustling through the hallway from the kitchen, an apron around her middle. "Where have you been?" She asked, scraping the hair on Libby's forehead back, to reveal on of the many bruises that coloured her pale skin. She'd covered the majority of them up with an unnecessary amount of clothing. "And who is this?" She added, leaving Libby, and greeting Millie with a firm shake of the hand.

"I'm PC Millie Brown from Sun Hill, your daughter was helping us with some enquiries." Millie answered, pulling her ID card from her pocket and handing it to the woman, who frowned, but nodded. "She's been very helpful. I ought to give you my card, just in case…" Millie also handed the woman a small piece of white card, and smiled reassuringly at Libby. "I'll leave you both in peace." Or she would of done, until Libby grabbed her arm.

"Thank you so much!" She said, smiling with gratitude, the tears in her eyes almost over flowing. Sensing the two girls' wish to speak alone, Libby's mother disappeared back into the kitchen and turned the radio up. "And I hope DS Carter isn't too annoyed with you for wanting to pick me up." She said. Millie couldn't help but laugh as she dismissed the comment.

"Oh he'll get over himself one day." She replied, smiling slightly. "Maybe…"

Libby said nothing, her face a picture of terror.

"Who will?" A third voice asked, as a wave of cool air hit Millie. Her cheeks tinged a bright crimson, and she turned around slowly, her worst fears confirmed. "PC Brown? Care to share?" Turning back to Libby, Millie saw the young woman mouth 'sorry'. Not that it was her fault but it did mean a lot.

"I… uh, best be off. I hope you're ok. Anything at all I can do for you, your mother has my card." Millie said, briefly encasing Libby in a hug, before letting go, and ducking under Max's arm as he held the door open for her.

Once left in peace, Libby watched the two officers march down the pathway, and back to the car. Maybe she'd never see them again, but although she didn't much care for DS Carter's, she was in no doubt to the fact that Millie was one of the loveliest and most genuine characters she'd ever met. Libby was certain she'd be eternally grateful to you the young PC, and equally her partner on the beat who she never got to meet.


	5. Making The Break

_Ok, after my first day back I feel like I ought to try and shed my own January blues by not only uploading but trying to write as well (which is really important because if I keep uploading so quickly without completing more chapters we will be in sooo much trouble, and you'll be stuck waiting for my insanely slow writing!). _

_I don't seem to be able to get a chapter length thats much good at the moment... this one is much shorter than I usually write, but hopefully we're looking for quality rather than quantity!! _

_So this is for everyone who, like me, is stuck inside praying for snow over the next few days just to keep them off school/college/uni/work for a little longer, but knowing that actually, it probably won't come... and we'll be stuck with the grotty cold, and ice, having to get up at stupid o'clock in the morning, until the weekend when it'll become wet and windy and completely miserable. Call me a cynic, but after so long, the British weather gets rather predictable :P  
And I guess I ought to add (for the benefit of my Australian readers, with absolutely no hard feelings what so ever :L ) that I hope you're having a lovely warm Christmas..!_

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**The Masqerade**

**Making The Break**

Everything had to go. Pulling a black bin bag from the roll she kept under the sink, Millie shook out the plastic and hooked it on the side of a cabinet handle, before pulling at the many photos of her and Rob on the fridge, and dropping them into the bag. She felt her heart tearing with every photo that was discarded. Within the minute, she'd shed all but one.

She unclipped it from the magnet and held it with gently shaking hands. Her fingers ran over Rob's face, and the tears that were welling up in her eyes distorted her own face that was turned into Rob's neck, giggling with a huge uninhibited smile as someone took a photo of them on one of their many nights out. He was laughing too, looking straight at the person with the camera, his eyes sparkling like only Rob's could. Someone had just cracked a joke at Millie's expense, and she'd attempted to hide from the many eyes that found hers. Without realising it, she found herself crying once more, the tears dripping onto the photo, onto her cheek; making the ink of her porcelain skin smudge into the darkness of Rob's shirt.

"Bastard." Millie muttered, ripping the photo up into tidy pieces and dropping them into the depths of the dark bag. Tearing the bag from the handle, she dragged herself into the living room, her hand caressing the mantle piece as she went. The pictures that graced that surface were her very favourite, and ironically or otherwise, few of them contained Rob. Sally, Mel, Nate and Ben featured in a few, and Stevie, Smithy and Callum in others. As well as her work colleagues, Millie's friends from school cropped up in a fair few, as well as her mum, dad and older brother in another. The only photo that found its end was one of her brother, Adam, and Rob, each with pints in their hand and massive cheesy grins. Unable to stop herself smiling, Millie found herself taking a trip down memory lane. It had been taken only a few months after she and Rob had got together; she didn't usually make a habit of letting her family meet her boyfriends so quickly, but things with Rob felt different, so she met herself halfway, and introduced him to Adam. They'd clicked immediately - Millie couldn't believe her luck. It became almost a weekly occurrence that on a Friday they'd get together down at the local and drink themselves silly. Millie'd always been close to Adam, so when she'd finally met a guy he'd got on with, no one had been able to understand the blessing she felt she'd been given.

As the pile of memorabilia accumulated in the bottom of the bag, Millie had sterilised the downstairs of her home, leaving empty spaces on shelves, and bare nails exposed on the walls. She heaved the bag upstairs, and the first point of attack was her room. She studied her jewellery stand with careful concentration, running the silver chains and beaded bracelets through her fingers. A beautiful silver pendant caught her eye, and she found herself dropping it into the bag, after having a heated debate with herself as to whether she should sent it to a charity shop, or a jewellers. Another two articles followed; a matching bracelet to the silver chain, and another necklace, this time a teal beaded number.

Before leaving the chest of drawers, Millie turned on her Ipod docking station, allowing a random playback of music to fill her ears. It was what she needed, to give her a little extra push to continue making the break. She reasoned with herself, that however hard it was now, it was nothing like how it'd be waking up tomorrow morning, or the morning after and seeing Rob's face staring down at her from every given nook and cranny in her house.

It was now she realised the downside of having such a doting boyfriend, who also happened to have good fashion sense. As Millie riffled through her wardrobe, for the first time fully appreciated how much Rob had brought her. Not that it stood for much in the current light of things, but that was beside the point. A few tops made it into the bag, with very little feeling attached; it was only when Millie discovered a cream over sized French Connection shirt, she wondered whether it was worth keeping. Rob had given it to her after he'd spent a week away in Edinburgh. She'd loved it the minute she'd stepped foot into it. The cream material had felt so light as it fell over her curves, and the half silky fabric had left goosebumps where it touched her. Closing her eyes, Millie felt around on the floor beneath her, and dropped it, rather regretfully, into the bin liner. She was sure that now, that was it.

The sudden breakaway of such a pivotal character in her life, who had been near enough her everything for the best part of the past year had left her empty. It was as though a black void had swallowed her up, and she was being crushed into nothingness. Lying back on the bed, Millie closed her eyes, and hugged the pillow close to her, as she snuggled into the duvet. She listened to the music, the melody sending her into an unnerving calm. Every word sung had a poignant feeling attached to it that she'd never noticed before. She lay amongst the lyrics, listening, not noticing how many of the songs on her Ipod were making her heart bleed drier. She felt a connection with the hidden meanings that had stayed so well concealed until now. Unable to stop herself, Millie smirked slightly, feeling like an over hormonal teenager who was only able to relate to depressive music.

Wasn't it funny, how ten years on, she was still lying on her bed, tears falling from her eyes, her heart broken by yet another guy? _'Maybe this was all we were ever meant to be?_' She wondered to herself. '_A mass of unexplainable feelings that no matter whether you're sixteen or twenty-six, will still knock you for ten and leave you feeling more worthless than you thought possible.'_

Some things never changed. At the end of everything, you still ended up being the same vulnerable mess, hiding behind the same mass of bouncy curls, or poker straight locks, and slapping on the same foundation, before applying a carefully groomed smile; and then throwing caution to the wind.


	6. Saved By The Bell

_Hello again! Who knows whats happening... second time this week! Well I think I know; I've had two days off due to the snow, and also one really really lovely PM from feebee17, which has inspired me to finish chapter 10... and I was really struggling with it too! So even though it wasn't this chapter I've been slaving over today, this is most definately for her. _

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**The Masquerade**

**Saved By The Bell**

"Yeah…" Millie groaned into her phone, the shrill ringing noise waking her from her fitful sleep. "Hello?" She asked again, after clearing her throat. She hit her bedside light on, and rolled out of bed, and stumbled towards the chest of drawers, turning her music off.

"Millie is that you?" Millie was more shocked than anything to hear the voice down the other end of the line. "Are you ok?" Millie nodded, before remembering she couldn't be seen.

"Urgh. Yes. Yeah I'm fine. I was asleep, that's all." She explained quickly, running her hands through her tousled red hair, again forgetting she couldn't been seen. She blushed a deep shade of crimson, her reflection shrinking away from her gaze, shamed.

"Oh… well, its DS Carter." Millie rolled her eyes; 'no shit' she murmured to herself internally. "Well… I just needed to let you know, we've got a slot in court tomorrow afternoon. We need you to give evidence against Rob Lewis." Millie practically choked on her sharp intake of breath. She hadn't even given court a second thought. "I understand it'll be difficult… but, well,"

"No! I mean, yes. Court. Right." She blustered. She said nothing, her breathing punctuating the silence. She glanced at the clock – it was only ten past nine; although looking at that from another perspective, it meant she'd got a totally unexpected five hours sleep, which was far from a bad thing. "Oh my God." She sighed, falling back on the bed.

"You… I mean… are you ok?" Max blundered, tripping over his newfound emotions that were obviously a total novelty to him. Taken back by his compassion, Millie found herself crying down the phone, her sobs wracking her whole body in completely uninhibited waves.

"I'm so… so sorry." She mumbled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I'll be fine." She murmured. "Its just… difficult." She finished, her composition failing her once more. An awkward silence fell over them, and Millie sighed to herself. Who was she kidding? Max didn't want to listen to this. She made her excuses, and threw her phone towards the wall, and buried her face into her bedspread.

I wonder… what it'd be like? I mean, it can't hurt, can it? And lets face it, no one would notice until I was supposed to be in court tomorrow. And then it'd be too late. It'd just end. There'd be nothing more. No more pain and heartbreak, no more feeling sorry for myself, no more lies and deceit. I can't deal with it any more. I was stronger when I was younger. I could bounce back. I was resilient. I had the heart to at least attempt to see the good in people. But now? Now all I see is evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. I wonder… what if…

Millie pressed her face hard against the mattress, the springs pushing up against her skin in protest. Her nose crushed against the pressure, and her mouth was clamped closed against the sheets. She closed her eyes, and wondered how long it'd take. Her mind was empty - blank. Maybe it was just her time. Maybe this was just how her life was supposed to… end?

A sudden wave of nausea rushed over Millie, as part of the sheet ended up deep in her mouth. She shot up, and rushed to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the cistern, and leaning her head over the pan. She held her hair back, large tears slipping down her face as the realisation of what she'd just tried to do sunk in. She emptied the little contents of what was in her stomach into the toilet, and flushed it several times, before she leant against the side of the bath and held her head in her hands.

What the hell were you thinking, you stupid, stupid selfish Bitch? Get a grip! Of course you'd be missed! What are you, deluded? I can't believe it… why? What was I thinking? What was I doing? I don't want it all to end. It's going to get better. Of course it is – just right now… well the tunnel is dark, and I can't actually see daylight yet, but after tomorrow, or maybe the next day – or even the day after that, it'll be all fine! Fine! I was just over reacting. I don't want to die. Of course I don't. Why would I want to die?

Millie pulled herself up, and grabbed her toothbrush and slathered it in toothpaste, determined at any cost to get the bitter taste from her mouth. The strong mint burnt the roof of her mouth and felt as if it was stripping her throat of the flesh. She winced, but continued brushing with twice the force and aggression. She was determined to punish herself for earlier. She couldn't figure out what she was thinking… maybe she wasn't? Maybe, for one second, the usually rational and thoughtful Millie Brown, actually stopped thinking. Was that even possible?

Millie stood up, her limbs trembling as she forced herself to regain trust in herself. She meandered into her bedroom, and stood before the wardrobe, her glassy eyes staring at her crumpled demeanour, before she peeled her clothes from her body, leaving them in a heap; and replacing them with some deep purple pyjamas: a plain strap vest, with a line of glittery lace at the bust, and a pair of chequered bottoms that were at least three inches long for even her relatively tall frame. She pulled her brush through her burnt-ember locks, ignoring the sharp stabbings of bittersweet smarting. After discarding of her brush somewhere across the room, she pulled her hair into a messy knot, securing it into place with a band as she made her way downstairs, finding it more difficult than she'd anticipated spending time alone in her room.

She couldn't help but wander what had been going through Rob's mind every time they'd fallen into bed together. Was it the control that did it for him? The vulnerability? She shuddered at the thought, feeling thoroughly repulsed with herself for allowing the concept to even enter an active part of her brain.

Millie was glad when the shrill ringing of her doorbell interrupted her somewhat perverse thoughts. Having stopped half way down the stairs to lean against the wall during her pondering, she continued down, before opening the door, forgetting she was wearing only her pyjamas. The night was dark, the street outside her house lit only by a warm amber glow provided by the councils ominous streetlights. She looked up at the sky; the rich velvet spread ranging from deep blues and purples, to oranges where the streetlights glowed heavenward. It was because of these lights that the stars she was sure were there, were hidden to her eye.

"Are you ok?" The voice at the door asked, concern etched deep in it. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Millie's head shot down from the sky.

"Uh, no." She smiled falsely, her cheeks burning against the cold. "I was just…" She paused, thinking better of opening her mind for public viewing. "Uh, yeah, anyway." She tired to change tack, shaking her head, embarrassed. "So…" She let her bodyweight swing on the door, wondering why her superior had paid her a visit, yet again. "People might start talking y'ano. That's twice you've blessed me with your presence out of the station." She dared to look into his eyes, her heart pounding in her mouth the minute their gazes clashed.

"_Permissum lemma__." _


	7. The Protector

_Hey :) _

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, however I hate to break it to you, Max isn't as romantic as we thought, using Latin. It was more because I'm obsessed with languages, and also because it gave me somewhere to start with this chapter! At the moment, I've written up to chapter ten, and I think there will be one more, which I intend to start writing tonight... I just needed a bit of a kick to get myself going, so decided to upload this. I hope you all enjoy it!_

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**The Masquerade**

**The Protector**

"Let them." It had been a simple enough response, but had sounded like a foreign language to Millie. It wasn't. She was at a loss of what to say.

"So…" She sighed again."

"So… can I come in?" Millie looked up at Max, and then at her living room.

"Uh." She glanced between him and the living room once more. Why. Why. _Why?!_ "Uh. Yeah? If you really want." The uncertainty radiated in her voice. I mean why would he want to do that. She stepped to the side, and crossed her arms over her chest. Following him into the living room, Millie found herself scrutinizing his every move, before he sat down, seeming a little on edge himself. She positioned herself in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall awkwardly. Her eyes didn't leave him once. "Do you want a drink?" She asked, more out of politeness than anything else. Max shook his head.

"I'm fine thanks. I just wanted to check you were… well, ok." He sighed, looking up at Millie.

"And you couldn't do that over the phone?" She replied, her voice cold and hard, almost mocking him. She hadn't anticipated how short she would sound when playing over the retaliation in her mind. "I'm sorry." It was all she could do to stop her voice breaking. "I'm fine, you… you don't need to worry about me." If there was one thing in the world that Millie of all people would be, it was 'fine'. That much was common knowledge. She was strong, a fighter for sure, however Max couldn't help but wonder whether this was more than she could handle.

"But… I am worrying." His voice was small, as if admitting this level of emotion drew all energy from his body. "You can talk to me, you know Millie." Millie sunk into the seat next to Max, drawing her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms tight around them.

"I didn't know. How can you _not_ know your boyfriend has such a history of violence? I mean… I'm a police officer. I'm s'posed to be a good judge of character. Or do I need to run every person I ever get close to through CRIMMENT before I allow them into my home?" She sighed, every intake of breath quivering with emotion. "Ten months, and this is what my relationship's come to. I'm actually giving evidence against him in court." She paused again before looking up from her lap and straight towards Max. "I thought he might have been The One, you know?" A silence descended over the pair, and Millie couldn't help asking herself the same question over and over.

"Then why didn't you introduce him to anyone at work?" Max asked tentatively. Millie winced, it had hurt more hearing the question of obvious distrust aloud. She shook her head and shrugged, the lamest response of all. "You can do better than that scum bag Mills… Millie." Max was quick to correct himself, but not before Millie had heard. "Millie." He repeated, rolling his eyes, as if inwardly reprimanding himself.

"Hmm…" It was a response of a thousand answers in three letters. Neither Millie nor Max was any kind of psychologist, but that didn't sound a million miles from being plausible. "I'll be ok, I mean I was better finding out now what he's capable of, then when – if – we were to have got married or had children. I guess, well whatever happens, it happens for a reason, yes?"

"Yeah." Max replied, smiling. It had been a rhetorical question, but the uncertainly in Millie's voice had made her sound childlike and vulnerable. Max couldn't help but try to comfort her.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink? I'm gonna crack open a bottle if you fancy a glass. Or two." Millie said, standing up, and walking towards the arch that separated the living room from the kitchen. She opened her now bare looking fridge and produced a bottle of white wine, and then reached up to the top shelf of a cabinet for two glasses. Unaware to the fact that Max had stood up and was now leaning against the arch watching Millie intently, she allowed the violet material that had been covering her stomach to rise slightly, revealing a pallid peach ribbon of skin, as well as a sliver of black and silver lace that matched the straps that poked out from the thin tie of her camisole.

"Oh, Go on then." He replied, seconds too late, having pulled himself from the trance he'd been set in. He knew it was wrong to have this level of ulterior motive when it came to Millie, but it pained him to see her angst. So in his eyes, ensuring her safety was the lesser of the two evils. Max chuckled slightly as Millie jumped, dropping one of the two glasses a few centimetres onto the worktop, as she heard his voice. It had been a lot closer than she'd anticipated. She pulled self-consciously at her top, biting down on her lip as she handed Max the two glasses, careful to evade eye contact. Grappling around in the fridge, Millie blindly retrieved a half open bottle of white wine, feeling desensitised, as if her brain running into overdrive at what had just happened had overridden all of her senses. Millie ducked past Max, and placed the bottle on the table, watching the crisp golden liquid fall freely from the bottle into the glass.

Max pushed the glass towards her, and poured himself his own glass, before taking a large swig from it, something that didn't go unnoticed by Millie. She picked up her glass, and watched the liquor intently, her finger running up and down the stem of the sheer glass mindlessly.

"I…" Silence. Max took another mouthful from his glass. "I'm really sorry about Rob." He sighed. He watched Millie shrug, as if he meant nothing to her. "It's ok to feel angry. Betrayed even, you know?" This time, all Millie did was merely nod. "And it's definitely ok to want to talk about it."

"I wouldn't know where to begin." Millie replied coolly, her gaze remaining unmoved from the fireplace dead before her. She took a small sip of wine, and sighed once more. "Why do you want to know anyway?"

"Because… well you're one of my officers, and tomorrow; tomorrow you'll be doing somethin' harder than you've ever done before." Max replied. Millie remained unmoved.

"He's no different to anyone else I've given evidence to in court. He's just a sick, perverted rapist. What makes you think I can't do this by myself?"

"What makes me think you want to do it by yourself?" Max retorted swiftly, putting down his glass, and for the first time allowing himself to look at Millie. "But it's fine, this," Max motioned around him, at his glass of wine, at the bottle, and then the living room itself, "was obviously a mistake." He stood up and began walking to the front door, not waiting for Millie to follow. "I'll see you in court tomorrow." His empty voice echoed off the four walls surrounding him. In a split second, he'd opened the door, and let in blow shut behind him, the thud bringing Millie to her senses.

Jumping off the sofa, in three swift steps she'd reached the door, and pulled it open. "Earlier, I… I thought about hurting myself." She shouted down the path to Max's retreating back. It paused, a long shadow being cast up the cobbled pathway by the amber streetlights. "I did more than think about it actually." She added quietly. The latest revelation caused Max to turn around, his face incredulous at what he was hearing.

"But…?" He didn't understand, one minute she was fashioning a hard and unaffected exterior, and the next a vulnerable and delicate glaze.

"I tried to suffocate myself." She admitted, her voice little more than a whisper as Max shuffled up the pathway, unsure about what to do. "I thought it'd make it all better. I didn't want to be remembered as the one who's ex got convicted of rape… and I didn't want to have to be the one that gave evidence against him in court either." By now large salty tears were running, uninhibited down Millie's face, her body weight being supported by the doorframe. "I didn't mean to do it." Millie offered by way of explanation, feeling like she'd let the people around her now by the hurt she could see on Max's face. "I didn't think it through before…I promise."

In one movement, Millie found herself encased in a tight embrace, her hair flowing like a waterfall down Max's back as she too hung onto him, her fingertips turning white as she clung to what felt like the brink between life and death itself. "I'm so sorry." Millie's voice was muffled, but it spoke in volumes to Max, and incurred an emotion he had no idea how to deal with. He pulled Millie towards him, resting his hand on the temple of her head.

"Y'ano… I could have lost…" Max paused and closed his eyes. "_We_ could have lost an amazing officer at the station."


	8. The Betrayer

_Firstly, I am so sorry for not updating sooner, but I've been feeling so uninspired about chapter eleven, I've not really felt like updating this chapter, which I know is stupid, but I've also had exams and coursework distracting me; so not a fun time right now. Thank you so much for everyone who has had the patience so far to stick with this - if all goes to plan, I ought to have chapter nine up by Wednesday at the latest, and then as for the following chapters, I'm hoping to have upto eleven updated in two weeks or so. __However, that means writing chapter eleven, which doesn't happen when Im typing an awfully rambly message to you guys :) _

_So I better be off ;)  
I hope you all enjoy this!_

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**The Masquerade**

**The Betrayer**

It had been a reflex reaction, which had sent Max flying several paces back down the pathway. She'd just needed some space, space that wasn't invaded by a workaholic, bigoted fraud. For a second, Millie had been so sure he had been about to say something else; she was so sure he had changed. "Just leave…" She muttered, shaking her head, the tears of angst mixing with the tears of confusion. "Before someone thinks you're trying to interfere with a witness' statement. Because we wouldn't want that, would we?" She turned and shut the door, before her legs gave way beneath her, and she fell into a heap her head lolling against the front door, her arms and legs knotted in front of her.

Of course he didn't care, Millie had been right to question his motives in coming to visit her. She, like every other female on this Earth had to learn the hard way. It was now she wondered why the male species had been left to protect, when just one female best friend would know exactly what to do.

***

Millie felt a pair of eyes boring into her. Allowing her hair to fall over her left shoulder, she glanced through her fiery auburn locks at the man who was leant, spellbound against the arch. She smiled to herself, her heart beating. She bit down hard on her lip, and pulled her shoulders back ever so slightly, and arched her back allowing a bounce into her step as she walked. Smiling as she handed over two wine glasses, Millie ensured that her fingers brushed along his hand, before she turned around, her hair following somewhat slower, splayed out in the air. She retrieved a half open bottle of white wine from the fridge, and followed the taller, broader shouldered male into the living room, where he set the glasses down, before he himself fell into the clutches of the sofa. Millie smiled ever so slightly, the corners of her russet eyes crinkling at the edges. Bending over ever so slightly, Millie pulled the cork from the bottle, and poured the glistening liquid into the glasses, watching with intent the male, who was unsure where to look: at the liquor sloshing into the large glasses in a circular motion, or at Millie herself. He opted for something in the middle, glancing somewhat nervously between the glasses, the liquid being freed from the bottle, Millie's alabaster chest, and then her eyes, camouflaged by a mass of curls.

A shrill ringing interrupted her, and Millie, although smiling sweetly, was inwardly fuming at the telephone. Resolving to let it ring out to the answer phone, she sat down, tucking one leg beneath herself, and allowing her wine glass to rest on her other knee.

"_Millie, where the hell are you…" _

***

"…Lewis' trail starts in fifteen and your not here… are you there?" Millie roused herself, rubbing her eyes hard, until she saw red and green stars before her. Opening them slowly, she felt her head spinning, her eyes adjusting to the cool wooden floor she'd fallen asleep on. Millie shielded herself from the cool air that was blowing through her front door. _'Shit, shit, shit!'_ She muttered inwardly, grabbing for the phone just as the line went dead. "No, well… I'll send a car around." Stevie resolved.

Millie crawled forward to the stairs, propping herself up, before pulling her body weight up on the banister. She caught a glimpse of herself in the living room mirror, and found herself cursing again. She climbed the stairs, yawning the whole way up, until she found her bed, and flopped into the embrace of the soft mattress. Her eyes fluttered closed again. _'Urgh! You stupid cow! Get up, get up!'_

Dressing in record timing, Millie had to fish her black police blazer from the back of her cupboard, trying to remember that last time she'd been forced to don the musty smelling, itchy woollen garment. She pulled her hair backwards, brushing it through hurriedly before threading it through a green tie, and then around itself until it resembled something of a bun. Rushing into the bathroom, Millie swirled some mouthwash around her mouth, before emptying it into the basin, the mint leaving her lips burning. It took her five minutes flat to do her make up, consisting of foundation, mascara and a slick of lip-gloss. It didn't dawn on her until her doorbell was ringing frantically that today, she'd spent less than a quarter of the time getting ready than she usually did, especially recently.

Shooting down the stairs, Millie allowed the door to swing open, whilst hopping around trying to pull a pair of socks on. Still looking very firmly at the ground she slipped both her feet into her work boots, and sat down at the foot of the stairs to tie her laces. A second pair of hands joined her in tying, an action at which she was unable to hide her surprise at. The last time someone had helped her tie her laces was when she was as little as seven or eight. She giggled to herself, before looking up ready to thank the parental-like figure, however words managed to escape her.

"Have you got Multiple Personality Disorder or something?" Millie asked bluntly, her mouth gaping open, her head shaking slightly. "One minute, you're asking me if I'm ok, the next telling me your concern is nothing more than fear for the station losing an officer… and then your helping me tie my laces." She trailed off slightly at the end, realising how deluded she sounded. Max frowned, his noses just inches from hers.

"No…" He replied, his voice soft, confused even. He broke the gaze that had them both so transfixed, and looked down at his hands, and then at the black laces within them. He continued to weave them between each other, before finishing with a flourish and standing up quickly, continuing to look at the floor.

"And anyway, I thought I told you to stay away from me today." She said, continuing with her brusque manor. "Like I said last night, we wouldn't want people talking, would we?"

"I didn't ask to be the MET's first choice cabby today, and I've learnt better of arguing with the Super when he's got three of his officers up in court. So unfortunately you're stuck with me. Ok?" Millie thought better of saying 'no', however couldn't completely abandon the petulant child in her, for as she left her house, she slammed the door a little harder than necessary watching with great satisfaction as the window panes in not only her house, but the next house shook. She stuck the key in her door, and listened for it to double click before she was happy to leave the house. By this time, Max had already stalked ahead of Millie and was ducking into an unmarked police car.

Millie was glad that neither of them felt it necessary to keep up with the conversation, because although the journey to the courthouse was a short one, no conversation between Max and her right now was good conversation. It seemed to have a habit of ending badly. The silence, however awkward Millie reasoned with herself, was better than yet another argument, and as the tension within her at what she was about to do grew, she knew that even the most reasonable comments would spark into a flame. However, as Max pulled into the courthouse car park, the apprehension was also outlined with guilt at how she'd just treated the one person who was trying to help her.

"How can I keep up with you, when you don't even seem to get it yourself?" Millie asked. "I don't know what to expect when I see you half the time. I need to know that you're gonna tie my boot laces…" Millie smiled playfully at Max. "…Or tell me that my only worth is when I'm working." By now they'd pulled into a space, and were both struggling to know where to look now they'd stopped.

"Last night…" Max started, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, a trait that drove Millie crazy. She glared at his fingers, wondering whether her telepathy was up to much. "I was going to say…" The drumming on the steering wheel stopped, as Max's door was tugged open by a stressed looking Jack Meadows.

"Thank God y'here." He said in his thick Yorkshire accent. "The Judge isn't impressed so far. The defence tore Nate apart." Millie shivered slightly, but not at the cold. "That Lewis kid has some good lawyers." Millie took this as her cue to get out of the car; her mind storing what Max had been about to say in the back of her head. She made a mental note to ask him about it later on. Meadows stepped aside and let Max through, the trio strutting towards to court, like some bizarre Charlie's Angels spoof. As they ran up the granite stairs into the courthouse, Millie became aware that Jack was giving her a brief, however all is words flew over her head, as she too gave herself her own mental pep talk. "Millie! Millie, in there!" Jack shouted down the hall, as Millie hurried past the courtroom, lost in her own little bubble. She blushed crimson, and turned on her heel, grinning at Max, and then at Jack.

"Oops." She muttered ducking between Max and Jack, before disappearing into the oak panelled room. The minute she stepped foot into the large room, with a hall like grandeur to it, she was ushered towards the stand by an official looking woman in a black suite with perfectly coiffed hair. For the first time, looking around, Millie noticed the sheer volume of people in the room. To her left, was Rob, flanked by two police officers, and shielded from her by a thick layer of glass. He glared at her, and shook his head, before Millie was strong enough to look away. This didn't go unnoticed by Max especially, who had just let himself and Jack into the gallery.

"This is Police Officer Amelia Brown, Sun Hill." The same woman said who had guided her to the stand said directly to the judge, who nodded curtly. The woman bustled back to Millie and lay down a bible, and held her a single piece of card with an ornately printed gold script on it. "Please read." She muttered. Millie brought her hands to the top of the table, and rested them against the navy book.

"I swear, by Almighty God, that the evidence I am about to give is the truth, the whole truth…" Millie paused, taking a lungful of air. "…And nothing but the truth." As quickly as the bible and scripture had appeared, it was whisked away, and Millie found herself along in the docks. She looked up at her colleagues, and gulped, before looking towards the defence, and prosecution lawyers, and finally the jury. She didn't need to lay eyes upon Lewis once more.

"Defence lawyer, Eleanor Prichard, please take to the stand." A middle aged woman with thick brown hair stood up, making a big deal out of fussing with a large wad of documents. Her heels clicked against the wooden flooring, before she came to a standstill at a podium. She looked at Rob, and then at Millie, looking her up and down very carefully. She remained silent, scanning over the top page of papers, her thick rimmed glasses perched on the bottom of her nose, held in place, Millie suspected only by the multicoloured string that disappeared around her neck.

"Ms Brown, can you start by explaining your relationship with the defendant Robert Lewis." She asked, looking up, at Millie, a slightly smug smile decking her thin crimson lips.

"Uh… ok." Millie was shaking uncontrollably, supported entirely by her hands that clutched to the oak of the podium. "There's not much to tell; however, before yesterday, we'd been dating for ten months." Daring to glance up at Jack and Max, Millie was slightly ashamed by the look of pure horror that graced Jack's face. He whispered something to Max, something which by the slow nod, Max agreed with.

"And during your time together, did Mr Lewis ever… threaten you?" Millie shook her head.

"No he didn't."

"He was never violent towards you or anyone else whilst in your presence?" She clarified. "Never showed a temper, never forced you to have sexual intercourse with him?"

"No." Millie hadn't taken her eyes off her work colleagues. She wondered whether, after Nate's apparent slaughtering, they thought Rob was going to be cleared of all charges. Eleanor put a few pages of notes to the bottom of the pile, before taking her glasses from the bridge of her nose, and letting them hang on the string around her neck.

"Can you take us through your shift, from the beginning, on Saturday, the 7th January. You were paired with…" Eleanor stopped, and perched her glasses back on her nose, her fingers never leaving the arms. She scanned the A4 page. "PC Nathaniel Roberts." She allowed her glasses to fall against her neck once more, before looking up at Millie and batting her eyelashes inquisitively.

"I was, PC Roberts and I work together on a regular basis, and so I like to believe that we are a good team." Millie paused, breathing heavily, before continuing, remembering she had nothing to hide. "On Saturday evening, we were in the Area Car, providing a presence on the streets, but also ready to answer any calls. A call came through at about, eleven, maybe half past, you loose track of time; especially when you're on nights." Millie explained. "And PC Roberts and I were near by – at the Thames to be precise, so we turned around and headed towards Evelyn Woods. The call came from an alleyway, 53rd Street, between the Romanian adult entertainment club, Bărbat, and the Evelyn Arms. The area is known to us well, so it only took us about ten minutes or so…"

"You said that time passed you by when you were working. So it could have been a longer journey." Eleanor stated.

"It could have been… but I know that stretch well. It would have taken us no longer than fifteen minutes at most." Mille said, sticking to her story, trusting her judgement. Eleanor showed her displeasure at this however said nothing more. "Anyway, we were met by an American student, Micah Badgely, who had come across Miss Carlisle on his way home. Her body had been left amongst the club waste, and we identified it by her business card."

"Sorry, a business card? It was my understanding Libby Carlisle was a prostitute." Millie sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, a business card advertising… herself."

"So surely if she's a prostitute, correct me if I'm wrong, but her job is to have sex with people, so therefore that would make a rape claim… slightly contradictory." It was all Millie could do to stop herself shouting back in retaliation. She took several deep breaths, in which time Eleanor had started her defence rant once more. "And also, make Miss Carlisle liable to prosecution, a case in which my client would be merely a victim in all of this." Mille shuddered at this and looked back towards Max and Jack. She felt physically sick.

"Libby Carlisle has been forced into prostitution by a sick and twisted individual to whom she is repaying a debt to." In her anger, Millie hadn't realised what she was saying. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she realised what she'd done, other than betray Libby's trust. Now she'd started she had to finish. "Miss Carlisle never went into any detail on the subject all I know is that she has to pull another £200 worth of customers and then she can quit." Now, she was talking not to Eleanor, but SUPERINTENDENT Meadows and DS Carter. They both nodded, hearing what she'd said and the desperation in her voice. In her panic, she looked down at the CPS lawyer, who looked like he was about to explode – in stark comparison, Eleanor looked like she'd hit the jackpot.

"And when you found Miss Carlisle, what state was she in?" Eleanor asked, after being shot a warning glare by the Judge. The questions continued for well over an hour, with the formidable defence lawyer dragging things out for as long as possible, asking for each account to be described in minute, painstaking detail. Millie was glad when the questions ceased, and the judge called for a break. The clerk returned to Millie's side, and escorted her outside of the courtroom, before all but abandoning her in the corridor, however in seconds, she was flanked by her two colleagues. She tried to smile, but a blanket of misery was fast spreading over her body.

"I'm sorry…" Millie sighed, sitting on a bench in the centre of the corridor. "She's terrifying!" She muttered, as an afterthought.

"Here, have this." Jack said, thrusting a chocolate bar in Millie's direction. "I think you'll be in there a while longer at this rate." He paused as the man Millie recognised as the CPS lawyer joined them. "Millie, this is Daniel Morgan our prosecution lawyer." The pair shook hands, and Millie was taken aback by how very different he looked up close, when his complexion wasn't tinged with beetroot, and accessorised with a heavy frown. She presumed he was in his late twenties at the very most, with light brown hair that swept over his face, framing his green eyes. They smiled, each clinging onto the others hand for a few heartbeats too long.

"It's lovely to meet you." He smiled, after relinquishing his grip on Millie's hand. "You're doing really well in there, Eleanor is enough to make anyone run screaming." He looked up the corridor towards where the dragon could be seen popping some coins into a vending machine. "I've been thinking about what you let slip regarding Libby Carlisle's _situation_, and I actually think it might work in our advantage. You see, the jury, although have been picked to be sympathetic with Libby, don't tend to empathise with prostitutes, so I'm hoping will actually now be more compassionate with Libby. It's a fairly unthinkable predicament to be in… so you never know; don't beat yourself up too much about it." Millie broke a cube of chocolate away from the bar and popped it in her mouth. She could feel her blood sugar levels dropping awfully low, and knew the last thing they needed now was for her to pass out.

"Hmm." She sighed, running her hands through her hair. She couldn't let Libby down.

"And I've had a look over the forensics – it's fairly watertight. They definitely had sex, it's just whether we can prove it was rape; and again, I don't think we need to worry too much, as the bruising runs in accordance with that level of brutality. We'll give Rob a good hammering too, although I think that will be tomorrow now. We're still supposed to have Eddy up presenting the forensic evidence before the days out." He paused, and looked at his file, not nearly as thick as Eleanor's. "Well, I better be going, we're due back in five. Good luck Millie… PC Brown…" He corrected, the taught skin over his cheekbones flushing slightly. "You've done us proud already." He smiled again, his eyes sparkling as they lingered on Millie, before they glanced over Jack and Max, who'd pulled his shoulders back, and shuffled noticeably closer to Millie.

"He's right y'ano." Jack stated, as Millie watched the suit-clad figure walk away. He was wasted in court, she decided; thinking a stature like that was more apt to smouldering in a Chanel or Burberry advert. "You've done Sun Hill proud, but most of all, you've gone halfway to getting Libby justice, an' I know how hard this case has been f'you." Jack stood up, a signal that Millie was to do the same. "Just remember that the worst part's over with. "Daniel's lovely, he'll bring out the best in you yet."


	9. Nothing To Declare

_Hey :) I was going to update this on Friday, but my internet failed, and then last night the site wouldn't let me, so all in all this has been a pretty unlucky chapter. It was originally to celebrate the end of exams (yay!) But now, they seem long gone... well two days gone :L _

_Thank you so much to my reviewers, if I keep to my current ideas, this should be finished by next weekend... but that requires finishing chapter 11 first!! _

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**The Masquerade**

**Nothing To Declare**

Millie felt like she was in the docks for hours before Daniel finally slowed his inquisition. She felt like she had something to prove, to not only her two superiors, but she wondered whether Daniel himself was expecting more of her. She did her best to answer the questions, using words that placed Libby in favourable light with the jury, however every time she looked up at the viewing platform, the crevices in Jack's forehead were growing deeper, and Max's eyes duller.

It was possibly in her favour though, that at one point during Millie's questioning, Rob got so riled with the questions, and Millie suspected her answers too, he hadn't been able to help himself when it came to stopping his emotions spill out into a frenzy of pummelling the glass that separated him and Millie, and lashing out at the guards to either side of him.

"You've said in your statement, a fact very conveniently left out by Ms Prichard…" Daniel added, turning ever so slightly to the jury. "That Mr Lewis visited you in the early hours of Sunday the 8th of January. Is it usual for him to drop in after you've been working?"

"No…" Millie looked at Rob, sorrow etched in every part of her eyes. "He knows that after a night shift I sleep in until sometime as late as three or four o'clock. I couldn't sleep, so had gone downstairs. I often have difficulty sleeping after happening on an… emotionally draining case." She explained.

"And I believe that Detective Sergeant Max Carter also visited you that morning. Was Lewis with you when your superior dropped by?" Daniel asked. It seemed like such an innocent question, but Millie, like anyone who was familiar with court proceedings, she couldn't help but wonder what the implied meaning was.

"Yes, he was. I hadn't introduced Rob to any of my work colleagues… we socialised in a separate circle of friends, and I've never felt the need to mix them, and he never pressed the matter. I was surprised when Rob wasn't at all welcoming of Max, like I said earlier I've never known him to be very hostile. At first I assumed it was that he thought it… _odd_ that my sergeant was checking up on me, but after Libby Carlisle identified Rob, it began to make sense. It wasn't that Rob objected to meeting my work colleagues, or even them ensuring I was OK, it was that after what he'd done the previous night, the more people that recognised him from the station, the more likely he was to get caught." Mille paused thoughtfully. "Maybe he thought I'd cover for him if it came to identifying a CCTV image? But… well it never did. What I didn't know, is that Rob had a history – he was well known to the police." Millie elaborated. "I ran his name through CRIMMENT… I wasn't expecting any return, I thought, hoped even, that it would back me up because I didn't want to believe that he was capable of rape. But… after seeing his previous, I knew that because he'd lied to me for so long, anything was possible. I knew… that I couldn't trust him anymore."

At this, a sudden crashing to her left side caused her to jump away from the podium, her whole body shaking in rapid convulsions at the sudden noise, which had shattered the silence so crisply. Her mahogany eyes darted towards Rob as she watched him lash out at the piece of glass that surrounded him, before he realised it was hurting him more than anyone else, and he turned on one of the two uniformed males behind him. A vicious growling escaped his lips as five more officers ran in, dragging him off of the young male, who was now lying motionless on the floor. Millie watched, mortified to see her ex-boyfriend being manhandled by five guards. His legs still managed to kick and flail, but his arms were secured behind his back. The pair locked eyes for a second before he was pushed through a door in the corner of the courtroom Millie hadn't noticed before.

Her hand covered her mouth, as she looked at the officer whose white shirt was tinged at his collar with blood. Her legs were frozen to the ground, her eyes darting around the room; no one seemed to know what to do. The three judges were talking in hushed voices, their lips hidden by their hands, before they suddenly all jumped up, the eldest looking man muttering something about adjourning court until the next morning through the microphone. Daniel rushed up to Millie, and wrapped his arms around her, guiding her from the podium, allowing her to take her time as she tiptoed past the officer, now surrounded by the three judges too.

Once outside the courtroom, Millie fell onto the wooden bench, and Daniel knelt before her, clasping her hands between his. "Are you alright?" He asked compassionately. Millie nodded mutely. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He sighed, shaking his head, looking up at her earnestly. Millie was unsure whether she was pleased to see Jack and Max join them; she wanted a bit of space, and would rather have spent some time reflecting with someone who she wouldn't necessarily ever see again. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Max edging towards her. She glanced up; horrified at the silent Game of Ego the two men before her were playing at her expense. She glared at Max, hoping he felt the daggers stabbing into him.

"Would you two give it a rest?" Millie fumed, standing up, and rushing towards the granite plaque that read 'toilets'. 'At least here I might get some peace', she thought to herself, throwing a mutinous look over her shoulder as she threw her left shoulder into the wooden door.

'_They're unbelievable'._ Millie sighed to herself as she looked into the long mirror above the two sinks. _'Everything has to be a game to them, they can't just watch another of their… species help someone else, they too have to get involved – and it escalates into some silent war of the sex. You'd think I care… well actually; they might be right on some levels. Well, one level. But that's not the point! I for sure don't care whose shoulder I cry on; maybe for once I just want a little honest sympathy without it turning into some kind of masculine territorial marking. They're like male peacocks.'_ Millie couldn't help but smirk to herself, imagining Max flourishing his tale, an array of rich blues, velvety teals and warm red gold hues towards Daniel, who instantly imitated his action, his tale bigger, with more colour incorporated into the already stunning pallet; greens and shocking yellows edges with a shimmering bronze. _'Well guess what, I don't care who's got the biggest tail.'_ Again Millie caught herself grinning into the mirror like a naughty schoolgirl. _'Or the most colourful tail. Stupid arrogant, pig-headed, chauvinistic, sexist…'_

"Millie…" It hadn't been the voice she was expecting. Or hoping for either, come to that. However now it was here, she decided it was probably for the best. "I'm sorry about the two Jackasses we seem to have working for us." Jack smiled, after checking there was no one else in the toilets. "I'm afraid I empathise with them. You see, us men only grow up once we hit fifty, and realise that we're not all we're cracked up to be; but ugly, lonely old bastards. You just have to… well bare with them for the next however many years." Millie couldn't help but giggle. She'd never heard the Super talk like that, but I guess as far as he was concerned, they were off duty, and after everything that'd happened in the courtroom, the loss of formality that work brought was more than welcome.

"Is he going to be alright? The officer that Rob kicked about?" Millie asked, the smile that had been playing on her lips quickly vanishing as she realised why she was there.

"Yeah, he will; a couple of broken ribs apparently. I overheard the medic say it was mostly superficial." Jack replied encouragingly. "Lewis will be going down for GBH. And After your little performance in there, I would be surprised if he gets off the rape charge. And with the forensics, it'd be a miscarriage of justice. Daniel's confident we'll get the result we came 'ere for." Jack paused; he could see the torment in Millie's eyes, before they went glassy and she turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest, and biting down hard on her thumb. A single hand rested on Millie's shoulder before it squeezed gently against her blazer. "I'll give you a minute." Jack said quietly, his hand dropping back to his side. "But as soon as you're ready, we can give you a lift home. It's been a difficult day; we can do without you for a day or two!" Jack winked, catching Millie's eye. "And I'll sort those halfwits out before you come out too! Just take your time."


	10. Priceless

_Thank you once again to my reviewers :) This is the penultimate chapter, I hope you all enjoy..._

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**The Masquerade**

**Priceless**

That night, Millie found herself slumped in bed by nine o'clock, an empty wine glass sitting on the nightstand above the 'Friends' Season 4 box set. The images on the screen flickered, and the ringing laughter echoed around Millie's now sterile bedroom. There were very few pictures on the wall, and many of the furnishings had poignant memories she had to discard, so along with the photos has found themselves in the bottom of a black bin liner.

As her eyes grew heavy, Millie fumbled around for the remote, flicking off the DVD player, however leaving her TV on, the blue light casting a cold glow over the room. Shivering slightly, Millie wrapped the thick duvet around her body, and nuzzled deep into the pillow. With any luck, she sighed to herself as she closed her eyes, she wouldn't wake up until Rob's fate had been decided without further input needed from her. However; she knew this wasn't destined to be, for she'd already set her alarm for eight the next morning, giving her an hour until she was, once again, required in court.

***

The next day in court went by mundanely, however without the presence of Rob himself. Daniel's questions continued freely for a further half an hour, before he seemed pleased with what he'd derived to end, nodding simply at the judges, who dismissed Millie. It had been whilst she was being escorted from the courtroom she noticed Libby's presence in the gallery. Millie raced along the corridor, ignoring Max and Jack who came to greet her. Silently, she pushed open the door leading into the gallery, and rushed to Libby's side; pleased that no one on the court floor seemed to notice her entrance. The two girls smiled at each other silently, and Millie squeezed Libby's hand tight.

"I'm sorry." Libby murmured under her breath. Millie shot her a questioning look.

"Rob… he's your boyfriend, right? I had no idea." Millie was surprised to see Libby looking totally shell-shocked. No anger, no sight of betrayal, only genuine concern; which shocked Millie into silence. "I don't know why you stuck with me." Libby continued in a soft whisper. "I must repulse you." Taking Libby's hand again, Millie pulled her up, and dragged her from the gallery where they could talk probably. This time, both Eddie, who was now in the dock, and two of the three judges turned to look at the two fleeing girls, each giving a varying degree of displeasure in their look. Millie sat Libby down on a bench, and took a seat next to her.

"_He _repulses me, Libby, not you." Millie said, her words stinging her mouth they were said with such venom. "Please, whatever you do, never repeat that ever. Ever. _Ever_. Nothing about what has just happened to you should repulse anybody. Do you hear me?" Libby nodded slowly, her eyes welling up with tears.

"But I brought it on myself, slutting around." In stark contrast with the emotion that was flowing in large circular tears down Libby's cheeks, her voice was unforgiving and punishing.

"No!" Millie almost exploded, struggling to keep her anger in check. "No, Libby! None of it is your fault. None of it." She didn't know what else she could say, other than repeating words that she'd already spoken.

"You know… we could get you counselling?" A third voice suggested from somewhere above the two girls. "I know you must be hurting right now Miss Carlisle, but if you get help – proper trained help, you can sort yourself out. Maybe even get out of prostitution, and go to college or University someplace else." Millie was shocked but not entirely glad to see Max, with Jack lingering down the hall, his phone glued to his ear. She couldn't help but wonder whether Max had just made Libby a pawn in his petty games with Daniel.

"But…" Libby frowned, looking between Max, and Millie who was struggling to conceal her astonishment. "You thought it was my fault." She stuttered. "You were thoroughly disgusted by me." Her voice was quieter still, however even in Max's cold heart; her words had enough poignancy to make his blood run to ice. Millie couldn't believe how pensive Libby was, however looking back, she decided it wasn't a difficult conclusion to draw.

"Libby…" Both Max and Millie groaned simultaneously, but it was the blush on Millie's cheeks that caught Max's attention after. She couldn't believe she was about to stand up for him, and she thought he knew this. He stayed silent, waiting for Millie to continue. "Look, you have learn…" Millie paused, and chewed on her lower lip to stop breaking into a smile. This would teach him. "…DS Carter here is sometimes a little brash, a little too sure of himself. You see, in his eyes people have labels, and those labels are either good or bad." Millie's speech was gathering momentum, but she was no longer looking at Libby, but at Max, wondering, childishly how she could hurt him most. "And I wouldn't be surprised if prostitution came under the 'bad'…" Mille paused imitating inverted commas with her hands, "…label." She'd let Libby make of that what she would, because her words really hadn't been designed for her, and as much as she hated to admit it, she herself allowed the poor little teenager become a pawn, in her own game with Max; the one that had existed long before Rob had been accused of rape, and long before Daniel had come along. The pair held each others gaze for a few seconds, neither able to gauge their thoughts or feelings.

Millie watched as Max stalked down the corridor, silent, other than the slight tapping his heel created on the parquet flooring.

"What?!" Libby asked, shaking her head. "Other than that he's an insensitive, old fashioned… ba…" Libby thought better of her words, choosing to omit them all together. "What has any of that got to do with how he treated me?" Millie produced a card from her jacket pocket, and a mini pen from a second pocket that couldn't be seen by the eye. She scribbled a name, and a number on the back of the credit card sized card.

"She's a credited MET counsellor, give her a call." Millie said, pushing the white slip into Libby's grasp. "She'll give you a hand in the right direction." The officer assured. "I, uh, better be going, I might pop down later." 'Any excuse', Millie thought to herself sadly.

"Hang on." Libby pleaded, standing up in front of Millie. "Can we go get a coffee maybe?" She asked, troubled by Millie's behaviour. Maybe it was more than had been asked for, but after saving her life; Libby felt she owed it to Millie. And debts, this girl, did not like to have hanging over her. "There's a Costa just around the corner. _Please_?"

Millie couldn't help but give in, so sighed, and nodded.

"Ok. Half an hour." She said, as the two girls dropped into sync with one and other as they walked, however in just a few paces Millie broke it, and stepped aside to talk to Jack. "I'll catch you up." She smiled towards Libby, who somewhat reluctantly continued down the corridor. "Libby and I are going for coffee. Just to let you know." Unable to help herself, Millie orientated herself so her back was ever so slightly towards Max. To the untrained eye, they would have thought she was talking directly to Jack, but Jack noticed the tension between his two officers, and although nodded his consent to Millie abandoning the court for a break, puckered his brow at her stance.

Thinking through the pros and cons of throwing the pair together at some point, he made a mental note that included their locking in a confined space for hours at a time until they sorted out their differences.

***

By the time Millie had caught up with Libby again, she was leaning against the aging stone of the court. The two girls chatted idly until they reached the enveloping warmth of the coffee shop, however neither had anticipated the snaking queue they'd unwittingly joined.

"I tell you what," Millie sighed, standing on tiptoes to see over the six-foot mass of the man in front of her. "You go grab that sofa," She motioned to the slightly warn looking brown leather sofa that sat in an alcove behind a low table. "And I'll get this; what do you want?"

Rummaging in her purse, Libby produced a five-pound note, before she strained to look at the black board behind the counter. "Hot chocolate please." She smiled, attempting to push the note into Millie's hands. Millie shook her head, and coiled her hands into a knot and pushed them into her pockets. "Take it, Millie!" Libby urged not giving up.

"No! Call it an apology for how I acted earlier." Millie bargained. "If you leave it much more, then we'll loose those seats." She warned, watching two be-wigged men outside. They were decked in black cloaks, and each holding several black files, piled precariously on top of each other. She assumed that with such a convenient location, barristers and any other court goers were regular customers. Dutifully, Libby slipped into the corner, setting herself down gently, and looking outside; giggling slightly as she saw the glares being sent her way by the barristers who had just stepped into the threshold.

Millie joined Libby on the couch after a few minutes, the tray balancing very precariously in one hand as she squeezed between tables and people. She set it down, placing the frothy hot chocolate in front of Libby, and keeping the thick caramel coloured liquid in front of her. She looked back up at the queue, and saw the two barristers looking down at the two girls. She looked around, as if asking 'me?' before smiling up angelically at them, as if disbelieving it could be her they were glaring at.

"Millie!" Libby gasped in muted horror, hitting her on the arm, and shaking her head. "Do I have to mother you now as well?" She hissed, watching Millie dissolve into a fit of giggles before her. She was surprised, having never seen the young woman in such a state. Libby couldn't help but smile slightly seeing the funny side eventually, as the two men each turned a shade of puce she'd never seen on a real person before. "Ok, so if we're acting like teenagers,"

"Of which you are one…" Millie interrupted, still almost deliriously giggly. However it wasn't until then, that Millie did remember that Libby was just eighteen years of age. How she'd matured, she mused. Was it down to her _circumstances_? Or had she always been eighteen going on thirty? This sobered her up immediately.

"Of which, I am." Libby sighed. The pair sat in silence for a second, each thoughtful, as they sipped on their still too hot drinks. "So come on then, if you're truly sorry about earlier, you'll let me in on whatever secret you and Carter are sharing." Millie spluttered on her latte, not expecting such a blunt question. She placed the glass on the wooden table and looked up at Libby, sorrow in her eyes.

"I don't know…" She sighed, shrugging her shoulders. This level of vagueness only fuelled Libby's interest, something that could be seen like a hungry fire in her eyes. "Its like, well at work, he's just DS Carter, yeah?" Millie expanded. Libby nodded slowly. She thought she understood: cold, unforgiving and arrogant. "But I've seen him out of work a lot recently; and he's… different."

"Different?" Libby echoed, the words rolling off her tongue slowly, in an echo. "How?" She asked, frowning, unable to understand just how it was humanely possible for someone to be almost two people.

"After I found you the other night, he came by to check if I was ok the morning after." Millie said, thinking this was as good an example as any. "He seemed like he genuinely cared, yet when I told him Rob is my… was my," Millie corrected, "Boyfriend, he went crazy. Going on about how I'd compromised the case, and about how we'd end up with a DPS investigation on our hands." Libby smirked, visions of Max, the shade of puce she'd seen in the barristers earlier, decking his cheeks. "And then when they brought Rob into the station, he wanted me to go and pick you up from the hospital so I was out of the way. And when I wasn't… out of the way I mean," Millie stopped, wondering how much of this she should be saying. "…Well he attacked me. And Max was there, making sure I was ok, and making sure Rob got what he deserved for it."

Outside, the two girls heard the sudden pattering of rain against the window, and for a few minutes, the clear streaks that wound their way down the glass caught their attention, each holding mental bets with themselves on which rain drop would 'win' their battle to reach the bottom of the pane first. Further away still on the pavements and road, the droplets bounced a good foot back into the air, soaking everyone who'd been caught unprepared by the sudden downpour. The sky itself had turned murky silver, with white highlights, and black crevices etched into the heavy fluff like substance.

"Do you… _like_ him?" Libby asked, breaking her intent concentration with the rain, however still staring blankly out of the window, watching the puddles grow in the uneven pavement cracks.

_Silence. _

"Millie?" Libby asked, with some urgency to her voice this time. She looked into her eyes, seeing a glittery, unresponsive glaze over them.

"I know I should be thinking about everything with Rob…" She sighed finally. "And trust me, I am, more than is probably healthy… but maybe I'm just looking for someone who'll look after me." She shrugged, in a tone that suggested she wasn't giving the whole story away.

"You mean to say, that," Libby paused gathering her thoughts. "When something goes wrong, he always seems to be there, and always was; even long before everything that's happened this week, and you've learnt that you can trust him maybe more than your own boyfriend, just because you're always with him… and even though when you're around other people he's a bit of a pig, you've learnt that actually he's worth it because when it's just the two of you, he really does care, and you know that because otherwise he'd have told you to sod off already – he wouldn't have put up with all of your fights against his authority, and he wouldn't have allowed you undermine him countless times, or show him up in front of people who he commanded respect from." Libby stopped, and took a sharp intake of breath. "Or talk to him like you did in the court in front of a rape victim." She added quietly.


	11. Damaged Goods

_Well firstly, hello :) _

_It seems like ages since I last posted, but I've been very busy with an unfair amount of school work that seems to have been dumped on me. But as it's half term, I decided I had to make some time to finish of Chapter 11 - which I failed at doing, so instead, decided to split it in half instead of getting bogged down with another 2000 or so words that are still to come. But anyway, I hope everyone enjoys it, and if I get two seconds to breath over the coming weeks, then the first thing I'll do is complete the story. Thank you for your patience! _**

* * *

**

**The Masqerade**

**Damaged Goods (Part One)**

The following days passed slowly for everyone involved in the Lewis case, making Sun Hill an unusually subdued place. Other cases came and went; paperwork got moved from desk to desk, and pile-to-pile as the officers tried to lose it in the ever growing void that CID had been turned into; with precariously balanced mountains of official white paper contaminating any surface available. Millie returned to work, although had been urged Inspector Smith and DS Moss that she ought to take a few days off. She didn't. Where would she have gone, she'd reasoned with them. Her house? Not now that it seemed to be haunted full of good memories turned bad. In fact, Millie tried to spend as little time at home as possible.

Millie found herself alone in the computer pool, at a total loss of what to do, although this hadn't been such an infrequent occurrence recently, especially as the verdict drew closer. With only six hours until she was due in court again, Millie suspected that she'd be left in peace for the majority of the morning. She wondered who'd threatened the troops to give her an easy time of it. Several names sprung to mind, but whoever it was hadn't done a good enough job. If people were to give her a wide berth, they needed to learn not to give her pitying glances as they wondered past her too.

Pulling up an Internet window, Millie gave up watching the CCTV in Evelyn Woods. It was typical that as soon as the area was flung into the spotlight, they invested in some working cameras. It had been quiet all morning, the usual rush hour traffic followed by young mums dragging their kids off to school, and then eventually various deliveries being made to the clubs and pubs. However, even she knew this wasn't business as usual. Business hadn't been its usual spritely self in Evelyn Woods since Rob Lewis had attacked Libby Carlisle in possibly the most publicised rape case Canley has ever seen.

After staring at a blank Google screen for a few minutes, Millie started typing into the search box, suddenly feeling empowered as she panned around towards the alleyway that she and Nate had found Libby in. If she hated her house so much, why not sell it? She smiled to herself as millions of results popped up in less than half a second. Clicking on the first website, Millie entered her requirements: Central London, 1 bedroom, under £300,000. The results were plentiful, however many were small rundown looking buildings in undesirable areas; that was until she came across a new apartment block – Georgia Wharf. She'd heard a lot about it, and even joked with her brother about getting a place there. She clicked on the impressive looking photo, and scrolled down the page. 'Why couldn't I?' She thought, clicking on each of the photos, one of which, a panoramic picture of the Thames, that took her breath away. Before, she had a house, a boyfriend and ties in Canley. Now, she could be anyone she wanted to be. She could lead a life as a promiscuous bachelorette – if she really wanted to. And this apartment could be the key to her new life. And on the plus side, it was within commuting distance to the station too.

"Nice." A voice disturbed her from her thoughts. She blushed, clicking haphazardly on the screen, trying to minimise the window as quick as possible. She turned on the chair, guilt residing in her eyes.

"Sorry." She muttered, her eyes dancing around Max's face so not to look in his eyes.

"Don't worry." He replied, pulling a chair from the next station and sitting down next to Millie, before commanding the mouse, and pulling the window back up. "I've read about them." He said, nodding at the screen. "They sound amazing. If I wasn't such a man of habit, I might think about moving myself." Millie didn't know what to say, so she merely kept her gaze fixed straight ahead of her. "I thought you had your own place…" Max started, making Millie turn quickly. "…But if you don't wanna talk about it…"

"You know I do." Millie replied, unable to keep the cool tone from her throbbing throat as she glanced up at Max who shifted in his seat and looked at the floor. "Bad memories though, y'ano?" Max didn't say anything, but smiled slightly. He wasn't quite sure how do deal with the continual waves of empathy that were flooding through him whenever he saw Millie. She wasn't looking her usual self, he along with half the Sun Hill workforce had noticed. Her skin was even paler than usual, accenting her many bronze freckles that were dotted over her nose and cheeks, which appeared more prominent than before, not helped by the skin that was pulled tighter over the bones that structured her face. Her eyes were sunk deep into her face, bordered with haunting grey-brown circles and her hair was always pulled tightly back from her face, in a simple bun, rather than the many eccentric plaits and twists she usually accessorised the restrictive MET uniform with.

"Millie…" Max faltered, on seeing her eyes meet his inquisitively. Not only was her skin dull, and her hair lacking its usual shine, her eyes and well and truly lost their sparkle. She was taking this case harder than everyone had anticipated, and it had been a subject well and truly exhausted into CID over the past few days. "You've been looking after yourself haven't you?" He asked tentatively. Millie said nothing. "It's just, well we're all really worried about you, and you're looking tired, and really quite…" He paused wondered the best way to soften to blow that was coming. "…Ill." He sighed. Millie dragged her hand up to the hollow of her cheek and pressed her fingers against the bone, until her chipped nails were a shade of white purple.

"Of course I am. I'm just not sleeping well." She replied defensively, the words rolling out of her chapped lips before she could stop them and even consider the fact that she might need a shoulder to cry on, and a person to talk to. Max didn't look convinced. "I can't _help_ that." Millie added, the rage building up, and conquering her tired body. "I don't lie in bed, and stare up at the ceiling, willing myself to relive all the good times Rob and I had before I found Libby. I don't want to feel the crippling guilt that Rob isn't feeling for Libby as well as my own self-reproach." She paused, taking a deep breath, her tirade gathering momentum. "I didn't _want_ any of this, in case that had slipped your notice. I'm not playing silly little Millie Brown, always clawing for attention, Max. This is _real_. My ex-boyfriend _raped_ an eighteen year-old girl and left her for dead down an alleyway." She stood up, leaving the computer screen untouched, and stormed from the room, not wanting Max to see the tears that were building in her eyes.

Max hadn't wanted any of that to happen. He was supposed to have been there to comfort her. He'd gone in peace, waving a white flag, hoping they could ignore all the animosity that had grown between them over the past week. Usually, as much as he hated this about himself, he would have felt triumphant at managing to rile somebody, especially Millie like that, but this time; it was different. He felt an unimaginably crippling guilt weighing down on his shoulders, as the slumped in the chair. In trying to pull her closer, and trying to ensure she was ok, he'd managed to push her over the edge. Max let his head loll into his hands, running his fingers through his short hair. Did he follow her? Or leave her? Where had she even gone? Standing up, Max logged off the computer, after having one last look at the picture of Georgia Wharf, before he abandoned the room and went in search of Millie.

Without thinking where his footsteps were taking him, Max found himself lingering outside of the female changing rooms, unwittingly listening to the voices inside. One he recognised to be Stevie's, the strong undertone in her voice sounding riled and frustrated, the second voice being much quieter, almost muffled, however still unmistakably Millie's. The door opened in front of his face, causing Max to fall over his own feet as he struggled to steady himself. He looked up from the floor upon hearing the animalistic growl escape from Stevie's lips. She let the door slam closed, before she looked up at Max, her petite frame towering over Max, not in body, but in mind and spirit.

"You've done enough damage Carter." She muttered, her hands on her hips. "I think you ought to leave her alone for today before you upset her even more. If that's even possible?" She added as a cutting after thought. She noticed Max's shoulders drop a fraction, and he looked at the floor. Guilt? She wondered with something edging on glee. "It was you that suggested us all keep a wide berth, and now look what you manage to go and do. Not only that, but she's cut up about people treating her differently, y'ano." Stevie continued ploughing on into unknown depths, watching a millions feelings unravel from behind Max's safety barrier that had been shattered. "You've got her so wrong." She sighed, shaking her head,

Max knew he had not so much got Millie wrong, but the situation. Every time he got close to her emotionally, he managed to screw it up yet again and push her so far away he didn't quite see how he would be able to retrieve the situation. Only this time, Stevie didn't think he could either. Somehow when it was just Millie he had to prove himself to, it was easier. He didn't mind opening his soul up for her to digest, but Stevie; well that was an entirely different matter.

"I'll meet you out back for the verdict later." Max sighed dejectedly. He looked at his feet, trying to avoid Stevie's death stare. She stayed silent for a while and shook her head, Max looking up at her just in time to see this.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I'll drive Millie down, you make your own way down there, and I think you should keep clear of us at the courts too." Stevie was shocked to see the level of shock that was residing in Max's eyes. She thought it looked as if he was about to break down into floods of tears. "At least until after the verdict." She added hastily, but not seeing it make a visible difference in Max's demeanour. He nodded mutely, and turned on his heel, heading towards CID.

As Max approached CID, he could see that the room was lit up only by the dull blue glow of the computer screensavers, which were looking up at him expectantly as he shuffled through the room. He made a beeline for his desk at the back of the room, ignoring the cheap light bulb glow of the Super's office that was more apparent now. He slumped into the chair, and flung his head into his hands, knocking several files off his desk in the process. The mix of the indigo light from the computer screens and the white-peach light from the offices behind CID made his eyes hurt. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he watched the hands moving slowly around its face.

…_10.32_

_10.33_

_10.34…_

The black hands moved slowly, the numbers blurring into the white background. It was two hours until the verdict was due – a very slow two hours. He logged into his computer, just for good measure, but didn't see himself doing any of the work that he'd been neglecting for the duration of the Lewis case.

***

Down in the changing rooms, Millie had found herself sat on a bench. She'd heard Max's voice outside; he'd been using a tone she'd never heard before. It was full of desperation and regret. With every word, she hung her head lower, unable to find the energy to get up and face him. She heard the door close, and heard Stevie coming towards her once more.

"He won't be hassling you again." She assured the young police officer, putting her arm on her arm and squeezing it tightly. Millie looked up from the nothingness of the beige tiles on the floor and sighed. That wasn't what she wanted, and the thought of Max thinking that actually, that's what she did want, brought on a fresh wave of tears. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was covered in hundreds of tiny red blotches, her eyes were a vivid russet colour that was only intensified by the grey tears flooding from them, and the few strands of hair that weren't restrained in a tight, elegant twist were plastered to her damp cheeks.

'This is what happens when your worlds collide', Millie thought to herself, wondering how two men could have such a devastating impact on her life.


	12. Spirit

_Hello :)_

_Firstly, massive apologies for not having written and uploaded this sooner, however up until Saturday evening I had written the last chapter... and nothing else. I've just been really uninspired, and it hasn't helped that I've been very busy with deadlines and everything all hitting me at the same time - and as much as I'd love this to cut it as an excuse, somehow I don't think any of my teachers would be best pleased with me :P _

_So... now it's here, I hope you enjoy it. I'm possibly planning a sequel that will be about 5 chapters long just to tie up any loose ends with the characters, but it depends how much time I have over the next few weeks. Don't hold your breath for anything though ;) I have to say a oneshot that does any tying of ends is much more likely - I will see what people say in their reviews, so if you want anything specific say and I'll see what I can do with the time I have. _

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and the few people who have inspired me to write than they will ever know (the stupid thing is, most of them don't even know this is here, so will never read that!)._

Happy reading...  
:D

* * *

**The Masquerade**

**Spirit**

As Max made his way down the ramp at the back of Sun Hill, he saw a glimpse of Millie ducking into Stevie's car. As Stevie swung the car around, Max wasn't able to help himself locking eyes with the young redhead. He smiled slightly, before bowing his head in what he hoped was a motion able to convey the crippling shame he was feeling. By the time he looked up again, the car was gone.

Max ducked into his car and closed the door, sealing himself in a safe and imaginary vacuum. Safe, from the prying eyes and thoughts of his colleagues, yes, however now on his own, he realised how vulnerable he was to his own deliberation. It was his own silent killer, he mused as he swung the car out of the car park. In the distance, he could just make out Stevie and Millie slowing as they came up to the first on many traffic lights that separated Sun Hill from the court.

***

As Millie ran up the steps towards the court, she caught a glimpse of Libby milling around in the waiting area. She pulled her blazer on, doing up each of the silver buttons as she walked towards Libby, with Stevie trailing her steps.

"How are you?" Millie asked compassionately, embracing the young women before her. Today, she was wearing a high wasted black pencil skirt, and elaborate pale pink blouse, complete with elegant ruffles falling down the front and over the waistband of the skirt. As they stepped apart, Millie noticed Libby had also been boosted a good couple of inches by a pair of chunky black patent heels.

"I'm ok." She smiled nodded, smoothing down her attire. "I woke up this morning… and I felt like I had to turn over a new leaf. Does that make sense?" She asked earnestly, her eyes sparkling with a new found life that was only enhanced further by immaculate make up that all but covered up the few remaining bruises. "Because… well if today doesn't go well, then I've still got something to cling on to."

"That's great Libby!" Stevie enthused, her bubbly personality making up for her unfortunate height. "But Rob is going down for what he did to you, do you hear me?" She asked. The smile that had shone from her face went, just as quickly as it came. She latched onto Libby's hands, and looked up at her. "We came here to get a result, didn't we?" Stevie broke her steely gaze with Libby and looked at Millie for support, but found her colleague was miles away. Libby joined Stevie in following the redheads' gaze towards the door, both groaning when they saw a certain DS step into the threshold. "Isn't it _Millie_?" Stevie repeated, this time louder, her tone firm and agitated.

Millie jumped, and turned back to Stevie and Libby, and nodded. "Uh, yes, yes of course." She continued nodding, and smiled a big over-enthusiastic smile she hoped would detract from the fact that she had no idea what she was agree with. Millie glanced over at the large clock on the wall, and saw that it was approaching 12.30. "We better go." She mumbled, not catching either Millie or Libby's eye as she turned on her heel and walked towards the arch that lead to the many courtrooms. Both women looked at each other, and smirked, before Libby chanced a look over her shoulder at Max, who had come in, sat down, and adopted a position that showed great disinterest in his vocation. She was sure this wasn't the case; he'd seemed like every inch the hot headed detective he was rumoured to be when she'd met him, and you didn't get 'hot-headed' over something you weren't passionate about. She turned slightly, and cleared her throat, watching DS Carter jolt into a more upright position. "DS Carter, right?" Libby asked tentatively. He nodded. "I think we're going in now, if you want to join us?" Increasingly aware that both Millie and Stevie had left her, she hoped for a quick reply, because as much as a new start had given her confidence, she didn't think that level of poise would allow her to walk alone into a courtroom. Max said nothing, but looked blankly ahead, deep in thought. "But obviously… it's up to you…" She sighed trailing off.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks Miss Carlisle." Max replied, his face deadpan. "I'd better not, I'll make my own way up." Libby didn't even both to acknowledge his answer, but turned and ran, as best she could in spite if her heels, and impossibly tight skirt, towards where Millie and Stevie were waiting for her, along with a male who she recognised to be Daniel Morgan the prosecution lawyer. The three smiled as she reached them, however each toothy beam asked a very different question.

"Libby, how are you?" Daniel asked in his calm voice that swum effortlessly through the air with maturity beyond his years. He outstretched his arm and shook Libby's hand firmly. She nodded, and smiled in the affirmative unaware that Daniel was remarking internally on what a transformation she'd taken in less than twenty-four hours. Neither Stevie nor Millie made any verbal advances on their 'smiles', so she said nothing, and leant her weight back on the stone wall next to the door that lead into courtroom two. She closed her eyes for a split second, and allowed her head to find a crevice in a stone. The four were silent, and other than the echoes that meandered up and down the corridor, the court had the air of being at peace; which Libby noted was ironic considering she had no doubt that somewhere in the building someone's life was in the process of changing irrevocably.

The door to Libby's left opened, the hinges squealing, allowing whoever wished to feed into the gallery. She took a deep breath and pulled herself up to full height. As she turned to face everyone else once again, Daniel made his apologies and with a slight swish of his gown he stalked away from the women, and disappeared into a door Libby hadn't noticed.

"Are you ready?" Millie asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"Are _you_?" Libby asked, without directly answering. Millie sighed inwardly, gathering her strength, and took the first steps towards the courtroom that had been imprinted in her dreams last night. The reality of the dull walls and generic wood panels had blurred with the dingy artists impression from the previous evenings' news, and as she stepped in, she was surprised to remember it wasn't all as gloomy as her mind would have had her believe.

Leading the way in, Millie walked to the back corner of the gallery. Below her, almost like a map, sat the judge, lawyer and jurors seats that were waiting patiently for their occupants. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just make out the defence stand. Like the chairs, it was empty. From this position, she felt removed from the immediate situation in front of her. Her thoughts and feelings didn't run in accordance with this lack of physical attachment. Had she been where her emotions portrayed, she imagined she would have been sat in the docks or in the middle of the lawyers' desks and chairs.

The final people filled into the gallery, some perched on the edge of their seats like they were watching a live episode of EastEnders. Millie felt physically sick at this. It wasn't make believe, you couldn't just pause, rewind, or turn off the television, she chastised them silently. This was real life, and it had real consequences for the people involved. Eying them with distaste, Millie wished she could make every last one of them feel some of the torment she was experiencing, and mix in some of the pain Libby was so expertly hiding. As Millie scanned the faces in the crowd, her eyes washed over Max, but right now, his brown eyes were just another pair that disintegrated into a pool of murky water. In the grand scale of things, he wasn't important, not as important as her ex, who at this moment was being paraded to the stand that was surrounded by glass. His hands were joined at waist height in front of him, if you didn't look carefully it would have been easy to miss the silver metal that were holding them there. Holding onto the chain between his hands, a churlish looking uniformed officer lead the way, and another less thick set, young male followed dutifully his hands stuffed deep into his black trousers. Both Libby and Millie watched like silent statues as the people around them huffed and sighed, shaking their heads and whispering to their neighbour.

No one seemed to notice the courtroom secretary rush into the room, hidden by a stack of files that she dropped onto her desk. She fumbled with the microphone for a second, before a metallic interference cut through the court like a knife. Everyone winced away from the speakers. "All rise please." She said, however her voice was an octave too high for it to be considered at all officious, however dutifully, everyone stood up, as three bewigged creatures walked into the court room, each back poker straight, their gowns tottering along behind them in a race to keep up that they were destined to lose. After the lawyers and judge had taken their place, twelve males and females strolled over to their seats. Unlike the lawyers, and judge there was a multitude of characteristics to distinguish them. Millie counted four women and eight men, as they paraded before them, they seemed to have a uniform of black and white, all apart from one women who wore a deep blue dress shift dress that fell to just above her knee. Millie didn't think she was much older than twenty-one. She had long blonde hair that was scraped into a messy bun and fastened over her left ear with a large red flower. Her lips were coated in a red gloss to match, and she wore several bracelets varying in their shade of red. You couldn't deny she looked good, especially with her model like proportions, however Millie couldn't help but wonder if it was appropriate attire for a rape case. Scanning over the rest of the jury, Millie was disappointed to see that it was made up of predominantly middle aged men and woman, other than two younger males each in their mid to late twenties. Funnily enough, they flanked the rouged woman.

"Please be seated." The judge called out to the court. With a scraping of chairs, and rustling of clothing everyone found themselves on their seats once more. "Yesterday we heard evidence both for the prosecution and defence of Rob Lewis. Said evidence was presented to us through forensics, and we listened to the testimony of several witnesses, as well as the report from PC's Brown and Roberts and finally the alleged victims own account..." Millie felt Libby flinch beside her at the term 'alleged'. She reached down and linked her hand with the younger woman's.

"He doesn't believe me." Libby whispered, her voice shaking. Millie looked at her, and saw tears welling up in her eyes. Millie squeezed her hand tight.

"He has to be impartial Libby, that's his job." She responded, her voice even quieter than Libby's had been. The two girls went back to sitting next to each other in silence, listening to the monotone drone of the judge as he gave his sum up of yesterday. 'Because like anybody could forget', both Libby and Millie thought independently of each other.

"…Over the past eighteen hours, the jurors have spent time considering the case and each individual piece of evidence, until they all voted unanimously. I now call head juror, Andrew Wilkes to the stand." Everyone in the gallery sat with bated breath. Everyone was silent; everyone was stock-still. Andrew Wilkes stood up and slowly made his way to the brown pillar that had been accessorised with a microphone. The heels of his shoes tap, tap tapped on the wooden flooring until he stood facing Rob. He had grey hair, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a suit more apt for the seventies, rather than 2010. Millie had visions of him sitting in a grand old mansion somewhere in country, with dogs, and a wife who waited on him hand and foot, whilst he sat in a grand old armchair and read The Guardian, before moving onto a thickly bound information text on the great automotives of the nineteenth and twentieth century. Her stomach sank. "Mr Wilkes, do you believe that your jurors came to their own decision, free from duress and coercion?"

"I do." He said simply, not taking his eyes off Rob.

"How you find Rob Lewis, charged with the rape of Miss Libby Carlisle, Mr Wilkes?" The words reverberated off the walls, however a long, dramatic silence ensued.

"After pragmatic discussion and some heavy thinking, the jury find Mr Lewis…" Millie was certain this Mr Wilkes was playing God. For the whole time he was standing at the stand, only once did he look up from Rob, and that was to look at the Judge. Andrew seemed to sense the judge's annoyance at being kept waiting, so resumed his steely glaring match with Rob. "We find him guilty of all charges."

Millie let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, allowing a strangled squeal to leave her body. Her hand clamped over her mouth, and her body crumbled against the chair. She watched Rob fall back against the glass, his face deathly pale. It sounded stupid, but throughout the whole of the trial, she'd forgotten just how human Rob was. Forgotten how he was still the quietly spoken, slightly shy man she'd fallen in love with all those months ago. She'd depicted him as a monster as if she'd never met him before – just as she was sure the jury had done.

Next to her, Millie was suddenly aware of tiny sobs that were shaking Libby disproportionately. She looked towards her, the mascara that had coated her eyelashes having found its way, in great sweeps, down her cheeks and below her eyes. Stevie felt helpless sitting next to Libby. There was nothing she could do or say to make things better. She should have hardly been surprised that the tough exterior that Libby had shown today was just that and nothing more permanent. Inside, she was still the vulnerable eighteen-year-old girl, who of course was terrified by what had happened to her. She chose to say nothing, but watch the action that was unfolding before her. The judge was trying to regain everyone's attention, which between the commotion on the floor with the defence lawyers up in arms, and Libby's breathy sobs, was no easy feat.

"In accordance with the jury's recommendations' I sentence Rob Lewis to a minimum of seven years imprisonment, effective immediately, for the aggravated rape of Libby Carlisle and actual bodily harm caused to Police Officer Amelia Brown, whom temporarily lost the sensory function of her vision after being attacked by Lewis whilst he was in custody at Sun Hill police station. This sentence also demonstrates the lack of remorse shown throughout the court case, and the count of aggravation he caused to the victim whilst giving evidence." There was once again a ripple of excitement through the gallery. Millie's throat constricted and her stomach churned at the mentality of some of the people she was sharing a room with. "Court dismissed." And with that quite simple statement, the judge took to his feet, and the room followed, all standing to attention as he left the room.

Libby and Millie leant against each other, each the others supporting column, both afraid to leave Rob's gaze for a split second as he was cuffed, and lead from the courtroom. He never looked forward towards his fate for one second, always looking back and up towards the two girls, who somehow had forged an unimaginable friendship through the hardest of circumstances. Their bond, both girls were sure, was visible from even his shoes. Sometimes, the inner feminist in Millie remarked, female solidarity really did come into its own.

"I need some air." Millie sighed, allowing Libby to stabilise herself before she made her excuses to Stevie and pushed her way through the crowd. Her heart was racing, and her world was spinning. Her breathing was jagged and uneven, which unsettled her more as she pushed her way through jeering males. She didn't know how they could be allowed into a court of law. Keeping her head down, Millie rushed through the wide corridors, her arms swinging viciously through the air either side of her. She got to the exit, and her march slowed to an amble as she tottered down the steps, her head light from the life changing few days she'd had to endure. Reaching the bottom step, she fell against the granite, tucking herself into the far corner as if to protect herself from any further emotion. For a few minutes, she sat in silence, alone with her thoughts and feelings, trying to make sense of them.

"Hey you." Max smiled, sitting down on the steps next to Millie. Millie looked up from the intricate weave of veins in the granite and tried to return his smile, however managed only a slight waver of her top lip. "You can smile now." He murmured, shuffling a little closer to the red head. "It's over Mills."


End file.
